


To Carthage Then I Came

by Catorin



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-23 20:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catorin/pseuds/Catorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Spamano. Lovino is a barman with a quick temper, little tolerance for people, and a bad personality. Of course it would be just his luck that a new customer to his workplace is a certain Spaniard who ignores this, seems impossible to shake off, and won't take no for an answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lovino Vargas was not a happy person.  That much was obvious to just about anyone who had ever met him.  With a  bad personality, a quick temper and a bad mouth to go with it, it was a wonder he still had his barkeeping job at all,  even if he restrained himself with customers .  Presently though he was faced with someone he knew he was going to have difficulty restraining himself with.  T he customer facing him w as a tanned man;  messy brown hair, a white shirt tight enough to show off a fairly tone d body and a grin that gave the impression  that he was one of those people who smiled far,  _far_ too much .  There could be no doubt that he was o ne of those guys who probably grinned in their sleep,  and for someone like Lovino who went through life with a frown etched on their face most of the time there was nothing endearing to it . For a few seconds he though t about pretending to be busy serving someone else  or restocking the place and to let Manon – his  Belgian fellow barkeep – deal with the guy.  B ut there was no one else waiting at the  counter at the moment  and Manon was gone for the hour . Forcing his face into the most neutral expression he could, he gave the man a nod.

“What will it be?” he asked, crossing his arms.

The man's grin spread wider as he sat  himself down on the stool. “Just  some sangria and your name will do,”  he said, his English coming out with a  slight – what was that? Spanish? - accent,  with an ever-so-slight lisp .  Lovino let his  frown return.  _Fucking great, he's one of_ those _guys,_ he thought, ignoring the man's query and turning round to get the  drink . Another one of those people who thought that clearly the bartender was just  _dying_ to have a good conversation with some increasingly drunk stranger – or indeed, by the look of the beaming, slightly swaying man: already halfway drunk .  Lovino didn't get along with most people when they were sober, let alone when they were drunk and spouting crap all over the place. He  silently set the  glass of sangria down in front of the guy and t ook the note that he offered,  counting up  the change with practised ease  and all but throwing it at him . The damned man was still smiling happily like he didn't have a care in the world. _P_ _robably one of those fuckers that can't read the atmosphere for shit_ _too_ , Lovino grumbled  silently. He took time to warm up to people, and that was mostly only when he made the effort, and quite often his quick temper prevented that.

“ _Gracias_ ,” the guy said. Definitely Spanish, or maybe Mexican or South American. “ So, a cute guy like you must have a cute name to go with it,  _sí_ ? ”  Lovino said nothing, simply crossing his arms, leaning back against the wall and looking away.  Did people really do that? Mix languages together thinking it was somehow sexier  or cooler or something ? It's not like he ever dropped random Italian into his speech.  All it succeeded in doing was making conversation harder for those who didn't know the language. He could only hope for the sake of everyone who met the guy that this idiot only did it when flirting, not in all conversation . “ Mine's Antonio,” the man continued, apparently oblivious to the obvious disinterest on Lovino's part.  How much had he already had to drink to be so unable to see that  Lovino was not interested in talking? Lovino was alone on the bar for the moment and he certainly hadn't served him before, maybe he'd come in from some other bar. He had to physically bite his tongue  just to avoid spewing a n irritated or insulting retort . It wasn't like he hadn't been hit on by customers before, even  a few male ones,  but  most got the message when Lovino ignored them  or replied shortly and  so moved on to flirt with other,  more receptive and open people.  If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was people who didn't understand simple non-verbal cues.

He was already tired and irritated from a long shift and was sorely tempted to tell Antonio – in very graphic terms –  just what he could do with his name, but he had already  previously been  warned by his boss that excessive rudeness to customers wasn't 'conducive to keeping your job'.  S o instead he simply scowled at the man,  hoping he'd finally get the hint and leave him alone . “Really?  Congratulations ,  if you'll excuse me though, ” he said,  before blowing air through his teeth in irritation and looking away,  pushing himself up from the wall as if about to move off to serve another customer .  There was no one else at the bar for the moment though, so instead he simply turned to face the rack of spirits, pretending to be checking them.

“Hey, your accent, Italian is it?” the other man asked, still oblivious to Lovino's attempts at – politely as he could – getting him to go away.

Lovino gritted his teeth before answering with a curt, “Yes it is. Well done, I'm Italian, want a medal?”

“ I like it.  I'm Spanish  myself -”

Lovino  sighed, sending the man a pointed glare .  “ Spanish?  Amazing, I think my horoscope warned me about you, something to do with irritants and headaches.”  _And persistent bastards._ He'd already dropped most pretence of being polite, a t this rate he was going to just have to  just out and out tell the Spaniard to leave him a lone,  consequences of  such direct rudeness be damned .  Any normal person by now would have concluded that Lovino was not interested, hell, most normal  people would have concluded by now that he  had either had a bad day and should be left alone, was an angry jerk  and thus not worth the time, or  was probably straight  or taken and thus quite annoyed at  having  the man trying to flirt with him .

“ Loviiiiiiii!” A  loud voice suddenly rang out as Lovino's brother Feliciano  made his way to the  counter,  taking a seat and all-but resting himself on the bar, an empty glass in his hand .

“Feli, fuck, no need to scream,”  Lovino  said, frowning and sending his younger brother  a rather unimpressed stare. He was only answered with a wide grin  however .  He could already tell Feliciano had drunk enough to be quite tipsy, especially if he was being that loud already.

“ Sorry, I just wanted another drink.”

“Same thing?”

“Yep!”

Seated on the barstool besides him, Antonio looked over at Feliciano, then at Lovino, then at his drink before laughing. “ _¡Dios mío!_ I'm seeing double a lready? I didn't think I'd ha d that much .”

Lovino scowled down at the Spaniard,  rolling his eyes . “We're brother s , genius.”

“ Twins?”

“No.”  And with that short answer Lovino turned round to get Feliciano's drink.  Noticing that the  bottle was  finished , he went out  back to get  another and by the time he came back Antonio and Feliciano were  talking away,  already deep in conversation.  Lovino rolled his eyes. _Thank fuck, stop that oblivious idiot harassing me all night,_ he thought, setting the drink down  in front of Feliciano,  taking the note  Feli had already put down and  placing the change down in front of his brother before  moving off  in case either of them thought to try and involve him in their inane prattle .  Being such a naturally gregarious person,  Feliciano had it in his head that all Lovino needed was to meet 'the right person' and suddenly he'd be a social butterfly,  something which gave Lovino no end of irritation since his brother always insisted on trying to drag Lovino into any conversation possible .  His intentions were certainly good, but that didn't change the fact that it was annoying as hell.  His eyes scanned over the bar and s eeing no customers waiting to be served, he turned his back on the  counter and leant against it, running a hand through his messy hair with a sigh.  He glanced at the clock on the wall: 10:30pm.  H is shift ended in a half-hour when Manon – the owner's sister –  would serve the few remaining customers  on her own until the bar  eventually  closed  at  half-past midnight .  He was lucky it was not a Wednesday or Friday, when the bar had special offers and was packed, staying open to 3am.

“ Hey, Lovi!” a voice called behind him. He spun round, and his eyes soon locked onto the caller. Antonio – that  infuriating grin still plastered on his face,  _of course_ – was waving his empty glass, obviously asking for a refill. Besides him, Feliciano,  who was making no secret that he was already quite tipsy, was also waving his own –  already half- empty – glass,  giggling at something, not that Feliciano ever particularly needed a  _reason_ to laugh,  especially when drunk .

Lovino scowled, moving over to the pair. “It's Lovino,” he told the Spaniard, narrowing his eyes in what he could only hope was an intimidating way. He was really beginning to have more than enough of this idiot. He couldn't wait for his shift to end so he could get away from him.

“Huh?”

“My name.  I t's Lovino, so don't call me Lovi.”

“ Aww, but Lovi is much cuter. It suits you better!”

Lovino snatched the empty glass from the man's hand. “Fuck, will you stop saying shit like that!”

“But it's true!” Antonio protested.

Besides him Feliciano nodded furiously. “ _Si! Si, si!_ Lovi's nicer! ”  he said, emptying his glass and waving it at Lovino,  before giving a hiccup and dissolving into a small giggling fit.

Lovino didn't bother to ask Antonio what he wanted, simply refilling the glass with sangria. He  all-but slammed it in front of the man, then glared at Feliciano, taking the glass from his hand. “And you,”  he  told his brother , a frown etching itself on his face,  “are not drinking  any more tonight.”

“ But  Lovi no I only-”

“Had too much and are being unbearable,  _I know_ .  Pretty obvious considering how you just downed half that drink and are barely staying up on that stool . ”

Lovino heard Antonio chuckle and immediately rounded on him, glaring furiously. “And what the fuck are you laughing at?” he snapped.

Antonio held up his hands in defence, still chuckling slightly. “Nothing! I wasn't laughing at you, I swear! It's just cute the way you're looking out for Feliciano.”

“ Jesus Christ!  I s 'cute' the only adjective in your dictionary? Seriously, bastard, of course I'm gonna look after him.  L ook at him, he's a naïve wreck who can barely look after himself.  He's one drink away from  either singing the national anthem under the table,  or singing it dancing  _on_ the table! ”

“Aw, come on, I'm sure he can look after himself fine.”

Lovino  gave an irritated sigh, resting both hand s on the counter and leaning over to glare at Antonio straight in  his green eyes.  “What? You  flirt with him for twenty fucking minutes and suddenly you've  got a better idea of what kind of guy he is than the brother who's looked after him his entire life?” 

His tone was rather calm, but his reaction must have surprised Antonio as the man put up his hands in a calming gesture.  “ N-no, that's not what I meant! I just-”

Lovino only sighed again, pushing himself up off the counter.  “Whatever.  I'll let you two get back to your chatter and go and do my 'over-protective and overbearing brother' shtick from a distance, how's that sound?”  He wasn't quite sure what exactly he was trying to achieve, except maybe vent a bit against the man who'd irritated him so much ever since he'd stepped into the bar.

“I didn't mean to - ”  Antonio began, only to trail off as Lovino spun round on his heel, marching to the other end of the  counter where another customer was waiting for a refill, a curious and amused expression on her face at the sight of the barman arguing with another customer.  After serving her  and the t hree after, Lovino glanced over at Antonio and Feliciano. The two were back in conversation, Feliciano telling some story complete with his usual flurry of gestures.  Antonio had already finished his second glass, and held it up, glancing over towards Lovino, only to be met with a glare that made him  almost sheepishly put the glass down and turn back to talking with Feliciano.  Lovino felt some stupid pride in having  apparently managed to cow the man from  bothering  him further.  Sighing once again, he leant against the  counter,  eyes glancing to the clock . Before he had time to react a hand came from outside his field of vision, pinching his cheek and pulling it  half up out of the scowl that still occupied his face.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he swore, jerking his head back and swatting the hand away. He turned round and found himself faced with Manon, his co-worker.

“You're scowling again and I saw you glare daggers at the guy talking to your brother,” she said, amusement in her voice as she  dropped her bag out of sight under the  counter,  running a hand through her hair . “ What'd he do?”

“Nothing, jeez. Just another annoying guy.”

“ Oh please.”  T he Belgian woman laugh ed ,  leaning against the counter. “ Y ou think that about  _all_ guys, but you  tend to be able to restrain yourself and not scare them out of getting another drink.” She grinned. “You're lucky Lars didn't catch you doing that.” Lars, Manon's half-brother, was the owner of the bar.  He was a large Dutchman – he and Manon shared a father and had all-but-grown up together –  who tolerated Lovino so long as he didn't keep customers away.

“ Your brother would probably be too stoned to notice,” Lovino mumbled, absent-mindedly tracing a finger around the rim of an empty beer glass.  It was true that Lars probably would have taken a dim view of Lovino's snapping at a customer. The Dutchman had already warned Lovino several times that if he didn't rein his temper in he'd have to be let go.  There was some irony in the fact that –  like Lovino –  Lars himself didn't smile that much either,  his face usually stuck in a neutral or bored look,  sometimes  Lovino wondered if the fact that Lars didn't mind him not being all smiles with the customers was the fact th at the Du tchman himself wasn't. Still,  aside from that it often seemed to  Lovino  that the only reason he still had his job was because of his friendship with Manon.  The girl refusing to let her brother fire Lovino was very much the sort of thing she'd do.

Manon laughed. “Oh come on,  it's not like he's some hipp ie always high on drugs.”

Lovino grinned over to her. “Really? That's a damn good disguise he's got then, fooled me completely. All he needs is the long hair and to make a few peace signs, maybe some rose-tinted glasses.”

Manon swatted  his shoulder with a hand , still laughing. “ Better not let him hear you.  Or he'll take the disguise off and you'll see the professional side of him.”

“ Where is our  _professional_ dear leader, anyway? You took his shift before I got here didn't you?”

Manon giggled in a conspiratorial way. “He's got a  _date,_ ” she said, sounding less like a grown woman and more like a little girl who  thought the fact that her brother was dating someone was some kind  of dirty secret  not to be spoken aloud .

Lovino grimaced melodramatically. “A date with him? That must be  _great fun_ . All mumbling, smoke, and gruff silence.”

Manon seemed on the verge of saying something to defend her brother but settled for throwing a wash - cloth at Lovino.  He tossed it right back, to a giggle from the woman, and t hey continued their banter for a  couple of minutes more before Manon stopped.  “ Anyway,  I'd better get on to work ,  unless you want to oh-so-kindly help me serve the last few drunks here. I'd better go serve that guy before he dies of thirst  out of fear of ordering anything that might make you  pay attention to him .” And with that she moved past  Lovino over to Antonio and Feliciano  who were still deep in conversation, the two grinning and giggling like kids .  Lovino watched them for a few seconds, torn between either leaving or  making sure that Feli got back safely in the state he was in, glancing over at his brother. Antonio must have noticed him looking because  their eyes met briefly and he gave  Lovino a small smile, raising his – still empty,  he'd apparently refused a refill  after all – glass in a sort of toast. Lovino simply frowned back, not responding, and spun round  to turn his back on  the man .

He spent a few seconds pretending he was busy tidying something in hopes of getting the Spaniard to  think he was  still working and stop staring at him, then turned back.  “Hey, Manon?” he called after the barmaid. She  spun a round, raising an eyebrow in query. “Don't let Feliciano drink any more.” Manon laughed, no doubt by now she well used to Lovino taking charge of Feliciano's well - being, and he knew that he could trust her to make sure his brother left safely.  Despite an audible protest from Feliciano behind her, s he nodd ed, waving Lovino off  before turning to talk with Feliciano.

Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn,  Lovino  went to the  restroom quickly before going  behind back to get his jacket.  Blinking tiredly, h e  pulled it on before  returning out to the  front,  eyes looking across the room. There were already on ly about  a dozen people left,  Thursdays were always pretty calm  and manageable .  He briefly glanced over to Feliciano  who was babbling to a smiling  and nodding Manon.  How she put up with him in his drunken state was beyond Lovino, much as he loved his brother, he was too much Feli's opposite.  It took him a second to realise that Antonio seemed to have  gone .  _Good riddance_ , Lovino thought with a wry grin to himself.  H e was happy to see that  idiotic Spanish creep  gone, and more-so to see him away from Feli.  Had it been a few years previous he would have taken a  much more active role in making Antonio back off.  D uring his teens Lovino had been over-protective  to a fault towards his younger brother.  E ventually,  Feliciano had actually  _snapped_ at  his brother to stop messing up his personal life.  Up till then Lovino had been sure he was protecting his kid brother from all sorts of  dangerous people who would use his innocence and naivety.  I t had  certainly been a nasty shock.  He frowned at the memory as he buttoned his jacket. In the end the real truth  was that Feliciano had always been more than capable of looking after himself. He made friends easily, he could get smiles from even the hardest of peoples, and as carefree as he acted, he was always on top of situations. Lovino would have been lying if he'd pretended not to be slightly jealous of his brother, what with his distinct lack of social skills and his trigger temper.  Still, he made do, he had few friends, but they were good ones, and if he was irritated by just about everyone, at least that meant any friends he made was a genuine one, or so he told himself.

Reaching the entrance, he took a second to briefly wave goodbye to Manon and Feliciano before leaving the bar – and walking straight into someone  standing just in front of the  d oor . The impact made him stumble backwards and his foot got caught  on the step , sending  Lovino crashing  into the  door-frame and down on to the floor.

A voice came through the torrent of swearing and cursing Lovino unleashed as he pushed himself up  into a sitting position .  “ _¡Dios mío!_ Sorry, I was just putting my jacket on and-”  The voice trailed off as Lovino looked up with the angriest glare he could muster as he connect ed that Spanish-accented voice to its owner.

He  swatted the offered helping hand  out of the way and pulled himself up on his own. “Jesus fucking Christ! The fuck did you think you were doing standing in the middle of the way,  you bastard!?  What? You fucking forgot how your shitty excuses for legs work? ”  There was no attempt to be polite here, not anymore.

“I'm really sorry! I just stopped two seconds to put my jacket on and-”  The Spaniard seemed so apologetic, almost to the point of stammering that Lovino felt the will to stand there and shout more insults at the man leave him. 

He made a harrumphing noise,  crossing his arms . “Fine, whatever.  Apology accepted. Just  go -”

“I'm glad I caught you though, Lovi- uh, I mean Lovino”

“What?” Lovino said, mouth curling down into a scowl.  _Jeez, he's not gonna start flirting_ _a_ _n_ _d shit_ _out here too is h_ _e? What a creep._

“I just wanted to apologize if I offended you in there when I was talking about Feliciano.”

“ Oh.” Lovino shrugged,  having mostly  pushed the incident to the back of his mind . People often told him that he was over-protective towards Feliciano. He put  back on a neutral expression  and roll ed his eyes.  “ W hatever, I wasn't offended.”  He was used to it.

A relieved grin enveloped Antonio's face. “Oh, good! I was worried I upset you. You just seemed pretty angry-”

Lovino gave him a pointed look. “Might have something to do with the Spaniard who's been bothering me all night.”

Antonio gave a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “O-oh, well I didn't mean to be a bother. I just wanted to talk, and you seemed like a cool guy, y'know, cute and-”

Yet another  scowl flashed onto Lovino's face  as he dropped his previous calm . “Fucking hell!  D o you ever stop?  Coming out with shit like that from nowhere! It's all 'cute this' and 'cute that'.  You're  like some kinda pervert hitting on anyone  and everyone despite the fact I've made it pretty clear to stop ! ”

A look of utter confusion swept  across Antonio's face .  _“_ _P_ _e_ _r_ _-_ _p_ _ervert_ _?_ What? But it's true!”

“ Ugh ,  seriously, just go away already.”  And with that, Lovino moved past the tanned man, moving down the street  into the night .


	2. Chapter 2

Lovino had already forgotten the Spaniard from last night by the time he got up the next morning. He went about his usual morning routine, same as he did every Friday: making breakfast, a quick shower and then a trip down to the morning market at the town centre. He often went down to the market on Fridays for fresh fruit and vegetables for the week's cooking. It was perhaps more expensive than buying them at a supermarket but you couldn't put a price on good fresh food. It wasn't because he wasn't rolling in money that he was going to put his culinary pride aside. Putting on his jacket, he left the apartment, heading down for the streets.

His small apartment was in a pretty cheap part of town – working as a bartender didn't exactly make for a lot of money to spend on a fancy place. That said, it wasn't too far from the town centre: fifteen minute's walk if you took the alley shortcuts. The crowds thronged around him as he made his way into the market square, taking in the smells of the place as he looked round to spy out the stands carrying what he wanted. You couldn't just take the first thing you saw, the quality of the food made all the difference in a meal and it was more than worth it to spent a bit more time and money to find the fresher fruit or vegetables than simply take the first or cheapest you saw. Half an hour later, he found himself with his arms loaded with a bag full of assorted fruits and vegetables. That was when he spotted Antonio.

It took Lovino a few seconds to recognise the tanned man from last night, having not expected to see him again – much less at the market of all places – and it was with a mounting sense of irritation and annoyance that he saw Antonio turn round, one arm likewise laden with a paper bag no doubt filled with fruit or vegetables. Lovino turned to move off, keeping a wary eye on the Spaniard as he did so. _Don't see me, fuck, please don't see-_

“Lovino?” Antonio's face lit up with the giant grin Lovino  suddenly remembered  all-too- well from last night.  _Fuck_ . He tried to ignore the man  by pretending not to have heard,  continuing to move off in the desperate hope he could still avoid having to deal with him again. “ Hey! Lovino!”  Antonio called again.

No such luck. Lovino gritted his teeth as Antonio hurried up to him, still flashing his winning-smile. “ Oh.  You again? What do you want?” Lovino  s aid, tone making it clear that he had no desire to talk to the man . Maybe now that he was completely sober Antonio would get the message and leave him alone.

“ Nothing, I'm just surprised to see you here. I didn't know you came to this market!”

“ Hardly surprising considering you  fucking met me just yesterday and we barely spoke.  I also live in this town, funnily enough. ”

Antonio laughed,  apparently taking  Lovino's sarcasm for a joke, running his one free hand through his messy brown hair. “Yeah, that's true.”  H e hesitated a few seconds before flashing Lovino another grin. “I'd love to get to know you better though!  Hey, if you're free after you finish shopping maybe we could get a coffee or something?”  His bright eyes and easy smile made it clear that somehow he thought there was some chance – no matter how small – that Lovino would accept.

Lovino's reaction though was simply to stare for a few seconds.  _How can you be so fucking oblivious!?_ he raged internally. It wasn't normal for people to completely miss the obvious signs like this.  He'd snapped at the man, he'd insulted him, his tone had never strayed above glacial. How was it possible to be so completely deaf to obvious signs? He  frowned at the  man , making a dismissive noise. “ Can't,” he replied shortly, “busy t oday .”

“ Oh.” Antonio's face fell, but in a few seconds his smile was back again, natural as anything.

“Well how about if you're free any time during the week?”

“Can't,” Lovino rep eated , gritting his teeth slightly,  keeping his voice level so as to avoid making any sort of a scene in the crowded market, “busy this week.”

“How about next week?”

Lovino gripped his bag of shopping tighter, knuckling turning white. “Busy today, this week, and forever more.”

The Spaniard gave a wry grin. “ Forever more?  You'll want to watch  that you don't overwork yourself  at that rate .”

Lovino rolled his eyes, blowing air out his teeth.  _To hell with subtlety._ “It's less stressful than dealing with you.”  Antonio looked crestfallen, his smile dropping. A surge of vicious pleasure shot through Lovino as he saw this,  as though proud that he'd finally prov ed that the Spaniard's obliviousness had a limit.

Antonio ran his hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his head. “I, uh, I don't mean to be stressful, sorry,” he said,  his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked away from  Lovino .

Much like last night, h e seemed so apologetic –  despite the fact that Lovino had given  the man no reason whatsoever to care about being stressful to  him or not –  that Lovino felt slightly guilty about it.  Sometimes Antonio reminded him of a small kid  wanting to please and  then being  crushed when he was told off,  a nd that itself reminded him  unpleasantly of himself as a kid. “Whatever. Just learn to read the actual atmosphere a bit, that's all,”  he mumbled dismissively,  shifting his eyes sideways .  There were these occasional flashes of something about Antonio, he realised, something that just seemed to calm  Lovino down  somewhat even when it was the Spaniard himself who riled him up. Antonio would stick his own foot in his mouth, then apologise like a scolded puppy afterwards  and make it hard to do anything but try to mitigate any hurt.

The  tanned man made a noise halfway between a n awkward chuckle and an actual laugh. “You're not the first person to say that,” he admitted,  a small smile back on his face.

Lovino let a small smile touch his lips. “I'd  honestly be shocked if I was.” 

There was silence between the two of them for a few seconds  and Lovino had hoped to use the silence to make an excuse and leave, b ut Antonio spoke  before he could . “So, what were you looking for?” he asked, before adding, “Uh, here at the market I mean.” As though it hadn't been obvious that was what he was asking.

Lovino was sorely tempted to say  that he'd done all his shopping and was going home now,  just to get away from this conversation. B ut in truth he still had some stuff to pick up and –  damn it all –  it wasn't this Spanish bastard who was going to stop him from getting his weekly shopping done just because he  couldn't understand simple hints  to leave people alone .  He had that much  stubbornness at least. “ Just some tomato es, ”  he replied,  letting his voice  fall back into its gruffer tone ,  his face neutral.

To his horror  this seemed to delight Antonio, a wide smile li ghting up his features. “Oh I love tomatoes! I know a stall here that sells really delicious ones!  Here I'll show you! ”  He held  out his free hand as though honestly expecting Lovino to actually grasp it.  Lovino simply gave him a n incredulous stare and didn't move.

Undaunted, Antonio grasped Lovino's shoulder and  before  he could do anything had spun him round and was steer ing him forward.  “The fuck?!  Hey! Don't push me around!  Get the fuck off me, you damn bastard! ” Lovino snapped, swatting the Spaniard's hand away  and sending his elbow  hard back into Antonio's shoulder .  He pulled himself free and took a step back, almost shaking from surprise and anger and  all-too-conscious  of the stares of  the other people around them.  In a bid to avoid making a larger scene he gave the other man a scowl and sighed, voice lowering back to a calmer – if frozen – tone. “I can follow perfectly fine without being steered around like a cow.” 

Antonio  gave an apologetic smile, raising his hands in a calming gesture,  looking genuinely embarrassed for a few seconds . “Sorry! Got sorta carried away.” Then he beckoned and ploughed ahead in the crowd, moving towards the edges of the market. For a few seconds Lovino  stood there,  breath returning to normal, a scowl on his face and a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach.  H e considered simply slipping away, by the time Antonio noticed he would be lost in the crowd. However he decided against it, he  was stubborn to a point,  h e needed tomatoes and he wasn't going to let some idiot with no concept of personal space or leaving-people-the-fuck-alone stop him  from getting them .  It was just a bad moment he needed to get through, that was all,  after this he was free,  he told himself  as he followed  after the other man, who by now had stopped for him, turning round and waving .

The stall Antonio had been talking about stood right at the edge of the market, tended to by an old man who seemed half - asleep.

Antonio turned to grin at Lovino. “Here, I'll buy them for you. How many do you want?”

Lovino could only gape at the Spaniard. “What?  N o. I'll buy my own tomatoes,  _thank you very much_ ,”  He moved to push past the other man, muttering a small “ B astard.”  under his breath.

Antonio stopped him, a genuinely confused look on his face. “What? It's because I know the stall owner, he always slips me some extras, so if I buy them then you can have some extra too! You can pay me back of course.”

Lovino hesitated, caught between his pride and the promise of a few extra free tomatoes. Eventually the promise of free food came out on top and he relented. “Fine, but I'm paying you back dammit, I don't accept – or need – charity.”  He stood back while he watched Antonio discuss with the old man for what seemed like an eternity. Apparently the two knew each other quite well indeed, if the long inquest into how each other  and how the old man's family were doing was any show. Once or twice he thought he saw Antonio gesture over to him and the old man glance  in his direction and so Lovino moved slightly away, letting a  frown fall on his face in the hopes of discouraging any one of them from trying to draw him into their inane conversation.  It was bad enough having to put up with Antonio, he didn't need to be ganged up against with some random stall-vendor  too . Either it worked or the two had never had any desire to include him in the conversation because they continued wrapped up in their own little talk  for several more minutes , Antonio even writing something down at some point  as the man seemed to chuckle .  S oon enough  the Spaniard was back, two bags of tomatoes in hand  while the old man waved him off,  still laughing at something and sat back down in his chair, clearing intent on dozing off again .  It was a wonder he didn't have people simply steal ing his produce  with how little he seemed to pay attention.

Antonio held out one  of the bags of tomatoes to Lovino, still grinning like he'd won the lottery.  Whatever he and the stall-vendor had been talking about, it had clearly put him in an excellent mood. Not that he really seemed to have many other moods. “There you go,  a nd he even offered three for free.  You can have them. ”

Lovino didn't meet Antonio's gaze, his face neutral as he took the bag. Three extra tomatoes was nice, but he wasn't happy that it was thanks to Antonio that he'd got them, it gave the feeling of being indebted to the guy and the last thing Lovino wanted was to owe him anything, not when he mostly wanted to be shot of the man. He could only pray that Antonio wouldn't think that Lovino owed him something in return. Still, it had been kind of the Spaniard, he supposed. “Thanks, I guess. How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do I owe you for these?”  He was worried for a few seconds that Antonio would try to insist he didn't need to pay, that it was a gift or something,  which would only make the feelings of indebtedness worse . But Antonio did not try to twist the words, simply telling him the amount and soon enough Lovino had given him the money back.  There was a few seconds silence as  the two stood slightly awkwardly on the edge of the market,  the crowd going past them to the other stalls.

“ So,” Antonio said after a while, all while Lovino tried to think of an excuse to escape, “still no for that coffee?”

“No means no.”

Antonio laughed, rubbing the back of his  neck . “Heh, yeah, sorry.  W ell if you're fr-”

“I need to be going,” Lovino interrupted.  _To hell with subtlety and tact._ “Better things to do... thanks for the tomatoes. ”

The  tanned man look ed slightly crestfallen but  he nodded  nonetheless, giving Lovino a small smile . “Ye-yeah of course! Well I'll see you around I guess?”

_Hopefully not,_ Lovino thought, but he said nothing,  simply shrugging, giving Antonio a wave and then turn ing round and le aving off into the crowd again .  It was not far back to his apartment, and  fifteen minutes later he was back inside. He placed the bags of groceries down onto the table counter and began to put everything into its place. When he came onto the tomatoes he emptied them into the container and a piece of paper fell down with them, having  apparently been stuffed at the bottom of the bag.  For a second he thought it was a receipt, but it rather seemed to be a hastily-scrawled message. Curious, he picked it up,  bringing it up to read it :

 

_Hey Lovino, if your schedule frees up at any point I'd love to see you again, maybe get a coffee or something? Here's my number if you want to at any point:_

_Take care!_

_Antonio_

 

At the bottom there was – indeed – a phone number scrawled. Lovino stared dumbfounded at the note for several seconds. This had never really happened to him before. The old 'hide a note with a phone number and make sure they get it' ploy? He'd always thought this was the sort of thing that only happened in films and books and the like, not in real life. The kind of sappy romance that would have a waiter or something write a number on a napkin and slip it to the person, that sort of thing. The only addition that could possibly have completed this film-like scene was a 'call me!' or love-heart scribbled onto it, though Antonio apparently had more class than that. That in itself came as a surprise considering the guy seemed like the sort of sap who'd probably consider it 'cute'. For what seemed an age Lovino toyed with the piece of paper in his hands even as his mind toyed with the idea of calling the Spaniard to tell him that he was wasting his time and that quite frankly Lovino would be happier if he stopped bothering him. He didn't do dating, relationships, anything of that sort, and that seemed pretty clear to be what Antonio was after. Hell, even when it came to friendship he had very few friends. Manon was probably the only person he could truly consider a friend and he probably would never have befriended her if she hadn't been his co-worker and thus someone he saw on a nearly daily basis. He sometimes even wondered why she put up with him, even if with women he was often polite – friendly even – working with him she'd seen his temper and how stubborn and rude he could be yet still considered him a good enough guy to be friends with. Well, he wasn't going to question it. For the better part though, people didn't like him and he didn't like them. He'd had some one-night stands, mostly when both he and the other person were too drunk to know better, but when Lovino would wake the next day he tended to go straight into a mix of disappointment – with himself mostly – and self-disgust and kick the other person out, making it clear a drunken fling meant nothing. There was no reason to believe Antonio would be anything different.

Eventually he decided against calling Antonio and tore the note into two pieces, scrunching them up and throwing them into the bin. He had no desire to waste his time with an oblivious, clueless man like that Spaniard. He wouldn't be surprised if calling him only made him think Lovino was interested, even if he spent the call swearing at him from the other end. Some people honestly had nothing where their brains were supposed to be, it seemed.

“Fuckin' persistent bastard,” he muttered to the empty apartment, getting back to the task of putting the everything away.

By the time evening came Lovino had forgotten about the note for the better part, though it remained slightly at the back of his mind. It was only as he entered the bar to take the evening shift that he remembered it unbidden and promptly tried to push it back out of his mind.

Manon was there waiting for him when he arrived, she took one look at him and crossed her arms. “Something on your mind?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lovino almost sputtered, staring at her. “The fuck? How do you do that?” Sometimes he wondered if Manon wasn't secretly a skilled psychic or something. The Belgian had learnt to read Lovino like a book, even when he wasn't really thinking of a specific thing. She always seemed to be able to tell when something was bothering him.

“Well?” she asked again, stifling a giggle.

“It's nothing,” he replied, crossing his arms. She leant against the counter, her eyes not leaving him. He knew he wasn't going to be able to get out of this. He might be stubborn but so was she. He pouted for a few seconds more before relenting. “It's nothing, just some guy.”

Her eyebrow shot back up again, as if on a spring. “Same guy from last night? Or another one?”

Lovino looked away, checking for any customer at the bar. “Does it particularly matter?”

“Well I can't help a friend out if he won't tell me anything.” She laughed, one hand moving up to pinch Lovino's cheek. He batted it away. He always felt awkward when she talked about helping him out as a friend. It always left him conscious of the fact that he never really helped her, terrible friend that he was. It reminded him that he took and rarely gave, though at the same time, he supposed, she never really asked for help, the Belgian was nothing if not very independent.

“Same guy, ran into him by pure misfortune. Doesn't matter at all, I won't be seeing him again.”

Manon's eyes were bright. “He might come back here.”

“And if he does I'll give him a piece of my mind.”

Another trilling laugh. “I thought that was what you always did?”

Lovino snorted before replying with a wry smile. “I am the most tactful and polite fucker you know, admit it.”

She laughed again. “Well, I always did have poor taste in friends.”

The wash-cloth Lovino had been absent-mindedly toying with in one hand went flying, hitting the Belgian woman in the forehead and settling over her blonde hair. Lovino grinned at her. “Not as poor as your taste in head-wear apparently.” She plucked it off, sending it back into his face with a giggle. “Where's your brother anyway?” Lovino asked. Lars was absent again. The Dutchman didn't work most nights – being the owner he felt entitled to decide his own work hours and he knew he could trust Manon to run the bar in his absence – but he was usually here to help on a Friday night.

Manon grinned wickedly. “Ill. I think something he ate on his date last night disagreed with him.” The grin faded and she gave a shrug. “He's OK though, tucked up in bed at home last I heard. But that means it's only the two of us here tonight.” And with that she pushed herself up off the counter and moved away to serve a customer. Lovino leant back against the wall, running one hand through his messy brown hair, sighing. He frowned, Friday nights at the bar were usually pretty hectic, the place would soon be filling up and he'd find himself with precious few moments to rest, it was the same every week, and he didn't expect it to be different today. Normally Feliciano – who was, if nothing else, a welcome break from the rest of the customers – would arrive sometime between seven and nine, sometimes with a friend, sometimes even with a date. He often came to the bar once or twice a week in the evening when Lovino was working. The brothers didn't see each other much during the week. Lovino was never the most social of people, preferring to keep to himself and he usually worked the evening and night shifts, while Feliciano worked in some art company as a fairly successful artist and was – unlike him – very social and often out and about seeing people. It was only about seven at the time. Forcing his face into a neutral expression, he got to work.

Feliciano did arrive a few minutes to ten. That wasn't surprising, he often went out to dinner with co-workers or friends on Fridays. What was surprising – or rather, rage-inducing might have been the better word – was _who_ he arrived with. Deep in conversation with his brother was Antonio, and with them was some oversized man, clearly more muscle than fat, with his blond-hair slicked back into a professional look and what appeared to be an albino, complete with pale skin, white hair and reddish eyes. A deep scowl set itself onto Lovino's face, one hand clenching the bar side until his knuckles turned white. _What. The. FUCK,_ he raged internally. He turned to see if there was any way he could fob the group off to Manon – brother or no brother – but she was already too busy serving another set of customers and so it was to a deeply unimpressed Lovino doing everything he could to avoid scowling that Feliciano and the group arrived at the counter just as he finished serving the last of the customers on his side.

Feliciano, as usual, seemed oblivious to Lovino's frowning face – or perhaps he had simply learnt to ignore it over the years. “ _Ciao_ Lovi!” he greeted his brother, eliciting a gruff grunt and a muttered ' _Ciao_ Feli'. Lovino glanced over at Antonio, almost daring him to speak. The Spaniard seemed on the verge to do so when Feliciano cut him off. “I met Antonio and his friends outside!” he explained excitedly, waving a hand at them. He pointed at the large blond-haired man, “This is Ludwig and,” he pointed over at the white-haired man, “his brother Gilbert!”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Ludwig said, his voice deep and drenched with a...what was that? German? accent. Lovino restrained a groan. He had to stay professional, hard as it was. “Whatever. Are you going to order something? If not then I'm going to have to ask you to _leave_.” He emphasised the last word with a relish that left no doubt that he wanted them to do precisely that.

He had tried to make it so only Feliciano heard him, but as his luck would have it his words came in time with a lull in the noisy atmosphere of the bar and by the surprised looks on the German brothers' faces his vehemence seemed to have been completely heard. He could only guess Feliciano and Antonio hadn't warned them about him. Ludwig seemed lost for words while Gilbert cracked a large grin. “Ooo, look out, Ludwig, looks like your charms won't work on this one,” he laughed, giving his larger brother a nudge with his elbow. Ludwig was apparently not amused by this as he turned his head to his brother and the two began conversing briefly in what Lovino imagined could only be German. That left a still-frowning Lovino faced with Feliciano and Antonio's twin smiles.

There was a short silence between the three of them before Lovino spoke. “So are you actually going to order something or not?” He could see some other customers at the side waiting, he certainly wasn't just going to stand there hoping they'd remembered what they'd come here for.

“Have you had a bad day, Lovi? You're not usually this-” Feliciano began.

Lovino cut him off, leaning forward. “I have had a day so wonderful I'd shit fucking rainbows if we weren't in public. Now are you and the three stooges going to order anything or not? Other customers are waiting.” His curt tone apparently had the desired effect as Feliciano didn't probe any further and simply ordered his drink. Antonio too – thankfully – refrained from engaging in any small talk for once, and didn't even inquire if Lovino had gotten his note, simply giving him a wide grin and a wink and leaving with his drink. Ludwig and Gilbert had apparently finished their little talk and ordered after Antonio and soon the four of them were seated at one of the last free tables, away from Lovino. Once they were gone Lovino served the next few customers then – with no one else needing a drink – leant back against the bar, sighing deeply.

He was interrupted again by Feliciano and took this opportunity to vent his frustration. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” he snapped.

Eyes wide in surprise, Feliciano raised his hands in what Lovino had quickly learnt was meant to be a calming gesture. “Wha-”

Lovino lowered his tone. “Bringing that damn idiot here – and that oversized kraut-sucker and the albino.”

“What? I didn't bring them here, I just met them outside! Come on, Lovi, Antonio's a cool guy, and Ludwig and Gilbert seem cool too! Just give them a chance, please? Please? You won't know if you like them if you don't. Pleeeeeeease?”

“Feli! Fuck. Don't try and drag me into this. I'm not some poor shy teenager just waiting for some wonderful guy or girl to burst into my life, sing a happy song, and show me the joy of living. I _enjoy_ life, I enjoy it even more when I'm not constantly running into oblivious morons.”

“But-”

“No. Just drop it and keep your new friends away from me.”

“You always do this.” Feliciano was frowning now and Lovino knew where this was going to go. This was the usual when Feliciano made new friends and tried to introduce his brother to them. “Always hiding in your little shell pretending everyone's too mean or that you don't want friends or find everyone annoying – or whatever. C'mon Lovi! Please. If you stopped imagining that everyone was out to get you you'd be so-”

Lovino sighed painfully, drumming his fingers on the counter-top. “We've had this conversation before Feli, and it always ends the same way. I am not some social butterfly like you, and I'm happy like that, so stop trying to treat me like one. Now _drop it_.”

Feliciano looked down, eyes sad now. “I worry about you, you know.”

Lovino scowled. Feli moving straight to the attempted guilt-tripping was certainly new. “I don't need anyone to worry about me god-dammit!”

Feliciano opened his mouth to argue his point further but closed it again under the intensity of Lovino's glare. With a helpless shrug he left, going back to sit with the trio at the table. With him gone Lovino breathed a deep sigh and leant back against the counter. He probably shouldn't have snapped at Feliciano like that, but damn if it wasn't true: that argument always went the same way. It had done for years and the two knew exactly the same points they both made, Lovino would make his case for why he had no desire to join in Feliciano's social life, and his brother would reply with what could be summed up as: _'I'm a social guy, so you should be to! O_ _h Lovi if only you were nice you'd have friends!'._ A bitter smile rose on Lovino's face. How was Feliciano supposed to understand? How could he? He'd always been the kind of gregarious, socially-easy, popular guy who could charm someone with a smile and if he ever screwed up only needed to look sad and everyone's heart would melt. In contrast Lovino was sour, quick-tempered, bitter, and bad with people. He had no illusions on himself: he wasn't nice. And that was fine, after all even when he tried to be nice he'd just be repressing rage and lying through his teeth. What kind of friendship could he hope for with anyone if it was built on the lie that underneath it all Lovino was some sociable, amiable guy? He wasn't, and that was fine. He'd had few friends in his two decades plus of life, but every one that he'd had he'd treasured, because someone who didn't try to pretend Lovino was someone he wasn't and who took time to know him was someone he could genuinely like. Sighing once more for good measure, he took a second to rest his head in his hands, already feeling the beginnings of a headache, then he pushed himself up and moved to serve the waiting customers.

The night continued much smoother than Lovino had feared, with Feliciano and his little group not trying to engage him in any more conversation. They only came up to the counter for more drinks, and it was fairly easy to avoid them: Feliciano seemed to be sulking and refusing to talk to Lovino while in the case of the other three Lovino always made sure to be busy with other customers and dawdle long enough for Manon to be the one to get them more drinks. In fact it was almost a return to normalcy, where he just had to put up with a few annoying drunken customers that try to make some conversation, then abandoned it once they had their drink.

It was around half-eleven when that normalcy began to get shaky during a lull in the customers. He was leaning against the counter with a glass of water in one hand as Manon settled herself besides him.

“Well?” She grinned as Lovino raised a confused eyebrow. “Have tall, dark, and handsome and you gotten on well tonight?”

It took him a few seconds to work out who she meant and he snorted derisively in response. “He's none of those things. Well, except for tall, which is no surprise, perverts usually are. Tall, thin, and moronic.”

She gave her usual trilling giggle, turning round and propping her elbows on the counter, resting her face between her hands as she scanned the bar for the group. “Oh, I don't know about that. He's quite cute, pretty well toned too. Must do quite a bit of working out.”

Lovino grunted, Antonio wasn't bad-looking true, and he certainly seemed to have a good body – but that didn't make up for the personality, and he was damned if Lovino was going to admit anything nice about the Spaniard. “Probably stays healthy all that running away when people call the cops on him for harassing them.”

Another giggle as Manon pushed herself up, looking at Lovino then giving a pointed look over to where he knew Feliciano and the group were. “Well, I don't think you need to be worried about him trying to flirt with you again, he and Feliciano seem to be getting on quite well.”

That got Lovino's attention as he whipped round and his eyes met the group around the table. Manon had been right, Feliciano was practically draped over Antonio, the two of them giggling while a clearly drunk Gilbert was shouting something. “Ugh, fuck, fuck, fucking-” A sick feeling grew in his stomach as he watched the two. He was sorely disappointed in Feliciano – but then his brother rarely made great choices. No, the one he was especially furious with was Antonio. The Spaniard had spent the afternoon harassing Lovino, going so far as to surreptitiously leave his number with Lovino only to then go and basically throw himself over Feliciano. He supposed he should be happy that Antonio had finally gotten the hint and decided to leave Lovino alone, but to then go straight after Feliciano hurt in more ways than one.

He felt Manon's hand on his shoulder.  “I wouldn't worry, Lovino. Feliciano can take care of himself in this, I'm sure. If you go charging in there you'll just come across as the overbearing brother and Feli will probably be pissed off for a good while.”  He knew she was trying to stop him doing something stupid  like going over to drag Feliciano away  or something. More than anyone except their  foster - parents she knew Lovino could be more than over-protective of his brother.

Lovino growled. “Like I give a shit what I come across to those  two . Feli's already pissed off at me anyway.  He'll sulk for the rest of the evening, but that's it. It's not like he's got the capacity to hate for more than a few hours. ”

Manon sighed but didn't probe any further, pushing herself up. Lovino imagined that by now she had learnt when she couldn't win an argument with him and had no desire to push his anger-buttons. “Just don't do anything rash is what I mean.” And with that she moved off to serve some customers.

“I wasn't planning to!” Lovino called indignantly after her. While furious, he had no intention of going over into the moron-zone and making matters worse. He really didn't care who Feliciano got with – well, that wasn't quite true, but he wasn't going to stop his brother from dating anyone, at any rate. No, what hurt was– He pushed the half-finished thought from his mind, it didn't matter anyway. With a sigh, Lovino pushed himself up and went to serve a waiting customer. It was once he finished serving the lady and her friends that the evening took another turn for the worse as they moved off and Lovino found himself staring at Antonio.

There was no way he could pretend he was busy or hadn't seen the Spaniard. He forced his face into a neutral expression. “What do you want?”

Antonio grinned. “Just some conversation would be great.” He seemed mostly sober, which only made the prior spectacle between him and Feliciano worse.

“I'm not paid to talk.” And with that Lovino looked round to see if anyone else needed serving, only to see no one waiting. _Fuck,_ _of all times for it to calm down a few moments_. He gave a pained sigh and turned back to Antonio. Time to be frank and put an end to this. “Look, Antonio.” His voice was forced calm. “What exactly do you want? I should fucking hope I've made it clear I'm not interested in any sort of relationship by now. So what do you want? To be magical happy best friends forever? Because that ain't going to happen.”

The tanned man gave an almost apologetic expression. “I'd settle for just regular friends.”

“Fu-”

“I'm serious about that conversation though.” His face was red, and Lovino had the feeling it was not just from the alcohol he'd had this evening. The man ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, did you get my note?”

Lovino had had plenty of time to think of a proper response in case he was asked this, and wasted no time using it. “What note?”

Antonio's shoulders slumped somewhat. “The-the one in the bag of tomatoes?”

“Oh that. Tore it up. I told you, full schedule forever.” That ever-so-slightly awkward and disappointed look on the Spaniard's face almost made the entire encounter at the market worthwhile and Lovino had to force down a smile. But then a hurt look passed over Antonio's face and a slight guilt popped up. _Fuck, what's that about? Like I give a shit if I hurt the bastard's feeling_ _s_ , he thought, throttling that sliver of guilt down. He had better things to be doing. He looked round again to see if there were any customers he could use as a way to get out of this conversation. Just his luck, the only one that needed serving was already being served by Manon. He crossed his arms, blowing air out his teeth in frustration. _Of course_ this conversation would come in a lull in customer activity, he thought again.

“Oh, well, never-mind then.” There was a few seconds silence before Antonio spoke again, giving him an almost sheepish smile. “So how about that conversation?”

“God-dammit what did I do to deserve this?”

Antonio's smile grew. “Hey now, how do you expect to make friends with an attitude like that?”

“Maybe I don't want or need your friendship.”

To Lovino's irritation the grin grew wider. “Maybe friendship isn't something you ask for, it's something you wake up one day and realise you have.”

“That's real deep. Got that from a book did you?” He'd had quite enough of this now. Leaning forward, Lovino glared the man in the eyes, trying to ignore the infuriating smile plastered on the guy's face. “Maybe you should leave me the hell alone. This persistence isn't flattering, and it's not 'cute'.”

Antonio's grin grew another few teeth. “See what I mean? You need to relax a bit!”

“Relax _?_ I'll relax when you leave me the fuck alone.”

“Come on Lovino, I just want to get to know you better! I'm sure we could be good friends if you just give me a chance.”

Lovino narrowed his eyes. “Are you fucking shitting me?”

“What do you-”

“You think I haven't seen you and Feli? The two of you were practically on top of each other. So one moment you're fucking chasing me like some shitty rom-com hero, literally a few hours later you're after my brother? And now what? You're coming to harass me again? So what, is one of us the backup? Or are you looking to ingratiate yourself with one of us so you can have the other?”

A deep frown fell onto Antonio's face. “N-no that's not it at all.”

“Listen here.” Lovino's voice was deadly calm. “I don't like people who fuck around with me, and I _really_ don't like people fucking around with my brother. Especially people who can't even be honest about their intentions and try and pretend they want to be wonderful happy friends with me when a few moments ago they were practically grinding against my brother hours after trying to make me take their phone number after uselessly flirting the day before.” That got a reaction as Antonio's eyes grew wide, the Spaniard trying to object before being cut off. “So here's the deal, leave me alone, and if you fuck over Feli you're gonna have hell to pay. Now either order a drink or fuck off.”

An inscrutable look came over Antonio's face and he stood there silently for a few seconds, eyes locked onto Lovino's. Then he lowered them, muttered something Lovino didn't hear, and moved off without a word, rejoining the group at the table. For Lovino it was as good as an admission of guilt and he moved off to serve other customers with a small, satisfied smile. The Spaniard didn't bother him again for the rest of the night and by the time the bar closed Antonio had left with the Germans and a still-sulking Feliciano without so much as a wave goodbye.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week passed by quickly, settling back into its old rhythm as neither Antonio nor his group of friends returned to the bar during Lovino's shift. Feliciano had mentioned meeting up with them once or twice in the week, while Manon had mentioned that the group had been to the bar a few times during her and Lars' shift but in both cases Lovino hadn't particularly cared enough to probe any further. For him everything had returned back to its comfortable and safe norms, where he knew how to react, where the lines were drawn, and what was what. This was how things were supposed to be. And so it that on Tuesday, more than a week after he'd last seen the Spaniard, he found himself down at the bar around nine in the evening. His shift had ended more than an hour earlier but he'd stayed around – as a customer – relaxing, drinking, and talking to Manon and Lars. The bar was pretty quiet tonight, with only a few groups around, so he'd stayed to keep the Belgian woman and her brother company. Lars had left the bar a few minutes prior and Manon had just moved off briefly to serve someone when in the corner of his eye Lovino saw someone sit besides him.

He didn't turn to look until a familiar voice assaulted his ears. “ _Hola_ Lovino.”

Lovino's stomach fell and a frown implanted itself onto his features as he spun round on the bar stool and found himself face-to-face with Antonio. Internally he swore furiously. Why? Why tonight of all times? He'd had a good day and an enjoyable evening until this. Was the universe _that_ committed to making sure that he couldn't enjoy anything? With a deep sigh he glared at the Spaniard opposite him; Antonio seemed very much as Lovino had last seen him, complete with his usual smile plastered on his face. Lovino wasted no time making his thoughts on the other man clear. “God-dammit! What are you doing here again?”

The tanned man shrugged. “I wanted to go out tonight but the others are all busy, so I thought maybe I'd come here-”

“And harass me? Charming.”

“ -and talk to you.”  Antonio's tone turned several shades more serious. “Lovino, I  wanted to talk to you about what you said last week.  I'm not 'after' Feliciano or whatever you seem to think.  I'm not even 'after' you, I was serious when I said I wanted to be friends with you.”

“ And  _I_ was serious when I said I couldn't give a rat's ass.”  Lovino drained the rest of his drink,  a slight light-headedness coming over him,  h e'd had a few drinks already and the alcohol was clearly just starting to kick in.

“ But why not?” The Spaniard's voice wasn't particularly whiny but there was a clear curiosity in it,  as though he was intensely curious as to why Lovino didn't want anything to do with him .

“Because I fucking said so. No means no. People don't have to be friends with you just because you decide you want them to. Some people will never like you no matter what you do.” He pointed an accusing finger at Antonio. “What you're doing here is literally harassment and probably stalking too.”

A totally confused look shot across Antonio's face. “S-s-stalk ing ? What?”

Lovino cocked an eyebrow. “Turning up at my workplace, continually  harassing  m e when I've made it more than clear I want nothing to do with you.  Need I go on?  At this rate I'm gonna have to get a restraining order  just to get some peace and quiet . ”

Antonio's grin returned fast as lightning. “Oh come on, you work in a  _bar_ .  One that I go to with friends o cc asiona l ly. It's not like I'm breaking into your office or  following you home or something.” 

Lovino was about to retort when Manon moved over.  She took one look at Antonio, glanced at Lovino, and grinned  before speaking, “ Nice to see you again Antonio.” 

The Spaniard smiled back. “ _Hola_ Manon, nice to see you too.”

“ Everything OK here?” Again Lovino was about to retort when she interrupted him,  point ing  down at  hi s empty glass. “Same thing?” she asked.  He shut his mouth  and nodded, keeping his eyes fixed away from the Spaniard besides him  as Manon asked what  Antonio wanted .  Silence overtook the pair until Manon had served them both,  Lovino stubbornly looking the other way from the Spaniard, leaning on the counter, starting to feel more ligh t -headed by the minute .  Manon seemed about to stay and talk with them when her attention was drawn away by another customer  and Lovino could have sworn  in fury as she moved off and left him alone with Antonio once again  with no reprieve .

The two were silent for a few seconds more before Antonio took a swill of his beer and turned to  him . “ Why are you so sure?”

Lovino didn't look at him, opting instead to scowl down into his drink. “What the fuck are you on about now?”

“That you don't want a friend.  I mean, everyone likes friends. ”

Lovino pointed another accusing finger at the man. “And what makes  _you_ so sure you want to be friends with me?”  he replied, vaguely aware that he was beginning to slur his words slightly. He took a gulp of his drink and continued before Antonio could answer. “ Because most normal people would have gotten the hint by now.”

The Spaniard stared down at his drink for a few seconds before looking up and replying. “ I admit sometimes I have problem s reading between the lines and all that stuff, but  I'm not so oblivious that I don't notice some of the things you say, Lovino. I just-” He stopped and raised his drink, taking in a mouthful  and gulping it down,  apparently thinking on his words. “ Why can't I want to be friends with you? What's wrong with that exactly?”

Lovino took another gulp as he stared down the other man,  waving the glass in his direction . “Because this isn't some sappy romance book: where the love interest harasses the protagonist until he gives in out of sheer fucking stress, but gosh - fuck - it - all we  _have_ to  forgive him for being creepy because he's such a  _nice_ and  sweet guy  who was only doing it all out of purest love .”

“I'm not trying to harass you into being the – uh – 'love interest', Lovino.  And I'm  _not_ stalking you.  I'm not even looking for romance!” Antonio seemed to be getting worked up slightly, which almost amused  Lovino as he watched. “Yeah, OK, I'll admit I was flirting with you at first, but I got your hints pretty simply, I'm not looking to grind you down or anything, just to be friends. What's so bad about that?”

“ Nor is this some fucking kid's book where the poor lonely guy was just waiting for some dashing person to come along and insist on being his friend  before they  then sing about the power of friendship, impart a heart-warming kid-friendly message and live happily ever after as best friends.”

“ Lovino, you don't have to take things to extremes-”

Lovino slammed his glass down, feeling the effects of the alcohol he had had beginning to affect him quite hard. It usually took a while for the effects of intoxication to kick in, which in turn meant he often ended up drinking more than he had thought, since he'd feel fine at the time and the effects were delayed.  He glared at the tanned man opposite. “What the fuck do you even know about me anyway?”

Antonio gave a small shrug, smiling in an almost apologetic way. “Well, not much-”

“Exactly, you bastard! You know fuck all, so leave me alone. Stop trying to be friends with someone who has told you to fuck off, it's pathetic.”

The Spaniard  only gave him a small smile .  “ I know nothing,” he replied, “b ecause you refuse to even talk. You can't exactly accuse people who are trying to get to know you that they know nothing about you.  I mean, it's sorta contradictory.  How am I- ”

“ Well maybe I don't want you to know anything 'bout me!” Lovino was beginning to raise  his voice now, and Antonio put his hand out in what was probably meant to be a calming gesture.  He swatted it away. “I didn't exactly ask for you to come bothering me.  Take a hint. ”

“ Hey, hey, look I just-”

“We've been over this,” Lovino snapped. “ You wanna be friends with Feli then  _fine_ . I'm not gonna get in your way, but you leave  _me_ the fuck alone.” He picked up his glass and emptied the rest, waving it in Antonio's direction as he continued,  he was sure that his speech  was starting to slur  much more noticeably now, but the bastard would just have to put up with it . “You might think you're being all cutesy and shit  with your little cute smiles and persistence but I'm sick of being dragged and led along by people  when I don't want to. I'm not a people-person  and am not going to pretend to be ,  _ s _ _o leave me the fuck alone, you god_ _-_ _damn bastard._ ”

Antonio was quiet for a few seconds as  Lovino glared over at him, empty glass still in hand. The n he looked up, his bright green eyes meeting Lovino's hazel ones. “You're right. I don't know much about you. But I do  _want_ to -”

Lovino rolled his eyes, pointing yet another finger towards the man besides him.  “ I'm Lovino Vargas. I'm 26. I was born in  Rome in Italy and moved to Austria when I was 14. I first came here becaus e I got into university to study  architecture but dropped out after a year. I eventually decided to stay here and now I work as a barman in this bar. There. Now you fucking know everything about me. Care to take a hint and leave me alone?”  Antonio opened his mouth to speak but  only managed to get the word 'but' out before he was stopped  by a scowling Lovino  leaning forward,  t rying to glare the Spaniard up-close in the eyes in  what he could only hope was an intimidating way.  Lovino just had time to manage to say “No fucking buts about it-” before his free hand missed the bar counter  and fell through the air, Lovino falling forward, crashing into the Spaniard.  Antonio  only just managed to keep himself from toppling off the stool, holding  Lovino up.

“ _Dios_ -”  The Spaniard was cut off in his surprise by  Lovino swearing furiously, by now  clinging onto him with one hand in an attempt to pull himself up and  gripping onto the bar counter with his other.

“ Well, this escalated quickly.  Looks like the two of you get on better than I thought, ” an amused voice remarked.  Manon was stood across the counter, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. The reaction was almost instantaneous as  Antonio pulled a still-swearing Lovino off him, trying to hide his blush. “ N-no!  H e  was just trying to hold himself up and his hand missed the counter .”

“ S'all your fault you god-damned bastard,”  Lovino managed to get out, before crossing his arms  on the counter and leaning his head down onto the m ,  looking across at both Manon and Antonio, trying to blink a slight blurriness that seemed to have settled on his sight. How much had he had already? He hadn't really been counting, in truth he could use another drink just to relax himself.

That idea was scrapped as  Manon  laughed, taking his glass away with a shake of her head . “Well, I think we can guess who's being cut off for the rest of the night.”

Antonio glanced over at Lovino before raising a querying eyebrow towards the Belgian woman. “Is he...usually like this?”

“ Hm? When drunk?  Pretty much.  Well.  N ot quite; he's sometimes a lot more socia l.  He e ven flirts with women sometimes.”

“ Oh.”  Antonio rubbed the back of his neck  with one hand , staring down into his half-empty beer.

“ Don't tell him shit like that,” Lovino  slurred in complaint , his head still resting  against his arms on the bar counter  as he kept an eye on them, feeling pretty sleepy all of a sudden.

Manon rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile.  “ He doesn't usually drink like this. And  I wouldn't normally let him drink so much, but it can be pretty hard to tell how much he's had,  and Lars served him at times, so it wasn't exactly easy to keep track .  Tends to hit him delayed too, makes it hard to judge. ”

Antonio gave a small smile,  raising his drink to his lips . “So I've noticed; he was pretty much OK when I got here.”

“ Was  _perfectly_ fine before you got here  a n d ruined it all, ”  Lovino interjected,  shifting in his seat.

He felt  Manon pat  him on the  head , provoking him to try and swat her hand away,  raising his head up from his arms . “I'm sure you were, Lovi, I'm sure you were.”

Lovino pulled himself up, rising from his seat, slightly unstable.  When had he got this woozy? It couldn't just be the alochol surely, no doubt Antonio's presence had left him more exhausted than he would otherwise have been. “Whatever, I'm going home.”

Manon held up a hand to stop him,  reaching over the bar and  tuggin g on his shirt to pull him back . “Whoa, whoa, you're not going anywhere like that.  Not on your own, at any rate. ”

“ I 'm not some fucking kid, Manon. I can walk home after dark on my own,”  Lovino slurred, falling back into his seat as the light-headedness got the better of him.  Maybe he wasn't sleeping enough, that must have been it.

“ Being too drunk to walk at this hour pretty much ruins any hope of you being taken maturely, Lovi.”

“ I'm not drunk! Just tired-”

“ I  was pretty much gonna head off anyway, I can walk him back.” Antonio spoke up,  finishing his drink at last .

Manon glanced over to him. “Could you? He doesn't live too far from here, about twenty minutes walk away.  Near the Baptist church and the closed factory.  He can show you. ”

“ That's in the  general direction I need to go to get home anyway. I can easily take a detour and drop him off safely.”

“ I 'm not walking with you,” Lovino mumbled.

T o his frustration t hey both ignored him. “That'd be really good of you, thanks. I can't leave the place unattended until my shift ends in  about three hours.  And I certainly don't trust him walking back in the state he's in at the moment.”

“ I 'm not walking with him.”

The Belgian's tone turned several shades more severe. “You're not going back alone. So either you wait here for  three hours  until I finish work or you let him walk you back.”

Lovino groaned into his hands, weighing up his choices  before  sighing deeply. “Fine,” he muttered. He pulled himself up off the seat again, stabilising himself on the bar counter.

Manon offered Antonio an apologetic smile. “Thanks for doing this.”

“It's no problem.”

“You've got  Feliciano's number if something goes  horribly wrong,  right? He  lives across the city but he's got a car. ”

“ Why have you got h is number?” Lovino  interrupted , glaring at the Spaniard with half-lidded eyes.

“Because  he gave it to him,” Manon  said .

“Why would  he do that?”

“Because,” she replied in an almost patronising tone, “just because  _you_ don't want to be friends with him doesn't mean  Feli do es n't.”

“ But he's a - a creep!”  He took no notice of Antonio's reaction, leaning forward to get closer to Manon.

She held a hand out to calm him and pushed him back softly. “Lovi, I really think it's time you headed off home now.”

Lovino sighed and started to move off, wobbling slightly. Antonio said goodbye to Manon and  took Lovino's shoulder by the hand to stabilise  him . “Don't touch me,” Lovino muttered, but he made no move to shake the Spaniard's hand off  and didn't complain further . If anything, he was privately grateful for the support; though he'd be damned if he showed as much.  Any show of gratitude would only encourage the persistent idiot to keep bothering him despite his best efforts to drive him away.  Even  in his state he could still realise that.

They stepped out into the cold night air without a word,  Antonio guiding Lovino along. The Spaniard took a few seconds to shrug his coat on,  while Lovino wrestled with his own. Eventually Antonio had to come to help him, much to his displeasure . Once that was done, Antonio turned to  him . “OK, you'll need to actually  tell me  where to go from here.”

Lovino leant back against the wall of the building, rubbing his tired eyes with one hand. What he'd give for his bed right now, he felt like he was falling every time he closed his eyes. “I can walk back from here alone,” he muttered.

“ Nope.”  Antonio's tone was oddly firm. “I said I was taking you back, and I am. C'mon Lovi, you can barely stand straight. There's no way I'm letting you walk back alone.”

“ Don't  fucking call me Lovi.” Lovino pushed himself up from the wall, moving forward, still light-headed.  Again Antonio took his arm to keep him straight, and helped guide him forward.

“ Why don't you want people calling you Lovi anyway?” Antonio asked, “It's,  well, cute.”

“Ugh, back to your fucking shit about cute.  I 'm not cute anyway. Only Feli calls me Lovi.”

The Spaniard gave a small smile. “So which is it? That you're not cute? Or that only Feliciano can call you  Lovi ? Because neither are true:  for a start, Manon calls you Lovi.”

“ You fucking try to flirt  with me again and I will throw you into the fucking road,”  Lovino muttered, keeping his head down as he watched his steps. “ Manon can call me that because she's a friend. Something which you-” he stopped briefly to jab a finger at the other man before continuing, “ - are not and won't be.  So don't call me that. ”

Antonio chuckled, rubbing the nape of his neck with his free hand. “Well if you say so, Lovino.”

“I do, and I mean it.”

There was silence between the two for a few seconds before Antonio spoke again. “Were you this  much against being friends with Manon too?”

“ Wha-” Lovino trailed off, caught off-guard by the question.  What was the bastard on about now?

“ I'm just curious. You don't have to answer.”

“Well, no, but that's different.”

“Hm? How so? Because you're colleagues?”

“Yeah and she's a woman for a start.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  O f course. ”

“ Left here.” They moved off the pavement and  Lovino's foot went straight through where he'd still expected pavement, making him stumble  forward , almost crashing down into the road.  Antonio caught him at the last moment, pulling him back with both hands.  He didn't try to right himself, letting himself essentially rest on the Spaniard's body  as he let out a groan, starting to feel  his stomach churn .  Yeah, maybe  it wasn't just exhaustion, maybe he  _had_ drunk too much.

“ A-are you OK?” Antonio asked.  Lovino didn't reply, simply letting his head rest on the other man's shoulder.  It was fairly comfortable like that, he decided, perhaps the other man was useful for at least  _one_ thing after all. “ Are you going to puke?”

He rested against Antonio several moments longer before pulling himself up, swaying slightly , trying to stabilise himself. “I'm fine,” he muttered, “it's passed.  L et's just keep moving.”

“ Are you sure? We can wait until you feel better-”

Lovino pushed him with one hand.  “Just keep moving, idiot.  I wanna get home  at some point tonight . ”

With  him leaning on the  Spaniard , they  silently continued across the road and back onto the pavement.  They walked on in silence, the only noise being the occasional passing car or Lovino guiding Antonio.  After another ten minutes walking they reached the foot of Lovino's apartment complex.  He once more tried to shoo the Spaniard away but Antonio refused to leave, insisting on walking him to his door – especially after he learnt that there was no lift  and Lovino lived on the fourth floor .  Say what you wanted about the bastard, he didn't do things half-assed,  Lovino mused. And so it  was  that after Antonio had carefully guided him up the flights of stairs they finally found themselves outside Lovino's apartment door.

Lovino pushed himself away from Antonio  – leaning against the wall instead  – and fish ed for his keys in his pocket.  His head was already starting to clear up a bit from the time and the cold night air, now all he felt was tired, his eyelids trying to shut every time he leant back. He glanced over at the man besides him,  making a shooing motion with one hand . “You can leave now, I'm not gonna fucking lose the keys or something and spend the  whole night sleeping next to the door.”

Antonio grinned. “Hey, I was told to make sure you get home safely and that's what I'm doing.”  Lovino simply rolled his eyes, trying and failing to manoeuvre the keys into the keyhole.  Antonio watched for a few seconds before moving to help. “Here, let me.” He put his hand onto Lovino's and guided the key into  place .

His hand was warm despite the cold outside, and it even felt quite nice against Lovino's, such that it took him a second to response, flashing the tanned man a  scowl. “Get your hand the fuck off mine.”  Antonio gave an apologetic shrug and did so,  taking a step away from Lovino .  With a sigh Lovino turned the key, opening the door and moving in, still leaning on the wall  with one hand .  He turned round once inside.

Antonio gave him a wide  grin , waving  him goodbye. “Take care, drink plenty of water, and get some sleep.”

Lovino frowned. “I know that, you idiot. What do you think I am? Some teenager  stumbling back from a party, drunk for the first time?”  He moved to close the door  behind him then stopped halfway,  turning round to face the other man . “Hey Antonio? Thanks. For  helping me back.  I guess. ”  The words felt wrong in his mouth after all the ire he'd spewed at the man, but he was genuinely thankful if nothing else. It didn't make up for irritating him and ignoring his desire for the Spaniard to go away, but at least this time Antonio's refusal to leave had been for an actual reason.

“No problem! I'm always here to help.”

“Whatever.  Just, thanks.  Good n ight.”  Antonio flashed him a wide grin, giving a wave before stepping away as Lovino slid the door shut and locked it, stumbling off towards his bathroom before he went to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days passed by without the Spaniard coming back to the bar, for which Lovino was certainly happy if not even thankful. He felt embarrassed from having been fairly drunk in the Spaniard's presence that he was only happy to let the time pass and the memory fade. While he could only admit – privately – that he was slowly finding the man less obnoxious than he had before, it was only in the same way that you could find one broken leg less bothersome than having both be broken. After that one evening, he had no desire at all to embarrass himself further or be pestered any more. Three days after, on Friday, he was just spending the afternoon relaxing before his evening shift when his phone rang, it was Feliciano.

He answered it, switching to Italian as he usually did with his younger brother. “What is it?”

Feliciano's voice rang out on the other end. “Loviii, can I ask you to do a huge favour pleeeease?”

Almost immediately a frown implanted itself onto Lovino's face. “What?”

“So, me and a few friends are going to a club tonight, and your shift ends at 3 or so, right? So I thought maybe if I lent you my car you could pick me up! It'd be reeeally nice of you!”

Lovino began absent-mindedly drumming the fingers of his free hand on the small side-table. He had learnt to drive several years earlier, but with not enough need or money for a car, he usually just borrowed Feliciano's if he ever needed to travel far enough to use a car. “Did you seriously just call me up to ask me to be your _taxi_?” He could just imagine Feliciano on the other side, thinking up some way of convincing him, nervously shifting from one foot to the other, rubbing the back of his head, the whole works.

“Well, when you put it like that,  I guess yes? But really it's just convenient  for both of us ! Before we go I can drop the car off near the bar and you can pick me up after you finish work.  It's just a small detour for you! It'll only take you a few minutes more! Pleeeeeeease Lovi?”

Lovino rapped his fingers once more on the table and sighed deeply. _What good is arguing?_ “OK fine, but I'm only taking you back; not your drunk friends.”

“ Thank you! I'll drop the car off outside the bar! The club is that new one not far from the city centre, you know-” He degenerated into giving a full set of confusing directions until Lovino got him to simply give him the club's name and the street it was on then with a final 'thank you' he hung up and leant back against the wall,  crossing his arms and sighing again for good measure  before he went  back to enjoying what was left of his afternoon.

The evening came quickly and the bar was busy enough with the Friday night crowd to keep Lovino, Manon and even Lars busy for most of the night. It was with a sense of relief when it finally closed at three in the morning, the remaining customers being ushered out as the three of them began to clear the place. Lovino stayed a few minutes longer to help Manon and Lars tidy the bar for the night before he collapsed into a chair, tired to the bone. Ringing punctured the silence. Snapping to full-consciousness, he brought out his phone. It was the alarm he'd set, making sure to remind him that it was time to go collect Feliciano. He might rarely make promises, but he took a certain pride in keeping them. With a sigh he heaved himself up from his comfortable spot, running a hand through his hair before he shrugged on his coat, said goodbye to Manon and Lars, and went down to where Feliciano had parked the car.

There had been no good free parking spots near the club, which was near the city centre, forcing him to end up parking out on the seafront, about ten minutes walk away. Sighing deeply, Lovino left the car with his almost ever-present frown on his face. He ran a hand through his hair again as he got his bearings, remembering which way was to the club and took a few seconds to breathe in the sea air and listen to the waves. The salty breeze was always something he could enjoy. Eventually he turned away, moving down the streets. There was a small but steady trickle of people moving in the opposite direction he was going, probably more people leaving the district's many clubs and bars as they closed. As he'd thought, he was parked about ten minutes away, and combined with the time it had taken him to find a parking place, it meant he'd arrived almost twenty minutes after he'd told Feliciano he would.

He quickly located the club and glanced over at the outside. Feliciano was nowhere to be seen, suggesting he was probably still inside. Lovino sighed, making his way over to the entrance. No one was at the door and no one stopped him as he walked in. There were only a few people left, most of them in the process of leaving. The place apparently closed soon, the music still drumming silently in the background, having apparently been lowered in volume but not stopped. He spotted Feliciano at the back, draped over that German bastard that increasingly seemed inseparable from Lovino's brother, the two laughing merrily about something. There was no sign of any others with them. _Fuck no, I'm not giving that oversized muscle-bastard a lift in_ _the_ _car,_ he thought, frown deepening.

“Loviiiiiiiii!” A sudden cry startled him as two arms invaded his field of vision from behind on both sides and flung themselves around his neck.

“The fuck!?” He sent both his elbows out to hit whoever had just assaulted him, and felt them connect satisfyingly, followed by a winded exhalation of air as whoever it was let go of him. Lovino spun round to find himself faced with a grinning Antonio who was now holding his winded sides, apparently mostly unfazed by the hit. “The fuck was that about!?”

The Spaniard had the decency – or maybe just enough sobriety – to look slightly embarrassed. “It seemed like a good ide-” he began, his loud and slurred voice revealing fairly clearly just _what_ had made him think it was a good idea.

“Loviiiiii!” The same cry came again, this time from behind. Lovino spun round 180 degrees again, bracing himself, only to see Feliciano waving cheerily at him, moving over in a way that suggested the he too was probably not exactly sober, a rather more composed looking Ludwig in tow. “Lovi, I really need to ask you a huuuuge favour again Luddy needs my help with something sorry for making you come here but while you're here can you drive 'Tonio back? He's on the same way back as you! He didn't drink much he won't annoy you! You can just leave the car outside your place for the night and I'll pick it up tomorrow! Please, please, pleeeeaseLoviiiii?”

“Jesus fuck, breathe Feli! How the hell am I supposed to understand if you speak that fast!? This is why you shouldn't drink,” Lovino said. He scowled up at the German besides his brother, “And you, you should know better than to let him!” The larger man's widened slightly in apparent surprised and he seemed about to defend himself before Feliciano cut him off.

“Sorry but this is really importaaaaant!” Feliciano said, his voice still spitting words out rapid-fire like a machine-gun, making it hard to follow just what he was saying. _God-fucking-dammit,_ Lovino spat mentally, _Every time he drinks he ends up like this. “This is really important, that's important, everything's importaaaaaant”._ He opened his mouth to answer, a short, sharp rebuttal already forming on his lips but he was stopped as Feliciano flung his arms around him, gave him a quick hug with an enthusiastic ' _grazie, grazie, grazie!'_ and – grabbing Ludwig's hand and ignoring the German's attempt to apologise and explain the situation more fully to Lovino – pulled the man away, leaving with him in tow, ignoring Lovino's furious calls.

There was silence for a few seconds before Lovino let out a small “Well fuck.” before sighing in quiet fury. He wanted to run after Feliciano, but he knew it would be mostly futile. It was impossible to reason with Feliciano when he was drunk, he had twice the energy and half the restraint. In that state he was always more likely to simply flee rather than confront his brother, as he had indeed just done. Lovino scowled deeply. _The fuck was the point of making me come here if he's just gonna ditch me the moment I arrive? He could have just sent a fucking text_ _or something_ _!_ He sighed again, deeper this time, heaving his shoulders in exasperation. He was not likely to forget this, it was, more than anything else, like some terrible practical joke, one sprung by his own brother no less.

“Hey, hey Lovi? Lovi? Loviiii?” came a sing-song voice to the side of him. Lovino suddenly remembered that Antonio was still there, the Spaniard looking over at him, head tilted to one side, eyes half-closed, body slouching and swaying slightly, there was little doubt that the tanned man was fairly intoxicated. What was it Feliciano had asked him to do? Drive him home? _Fuck that, he can walk._ That damned Spaniard had waltzed into his life and harassed him since the first day without so much as asking permission. Lovino didn't care that the man was friends with Feliciano, but Antonio seemed intent on trying to be friends with Lovino too and nothing seemed to get the obtuse idiot to take the hint that Lovino wanted nothing to do with him. He could only shudder at the thought of what a drunk Antonio would be like. “Loviiii, can I get a lift?” Antonio continued, his words slurring. Lovino sent the man a glare. Harrumphing, he said nothing, simply stepping off from the raised area where the tables were and moving towards the door, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He vaguely heard Antonio move behind him, a voice calling out, “Hey wait, Lovi, wait, wait for me.” Then there was a string of curses in both English and what was probably Spanish and he heard the dull thump of something hitting the floor.

Lovino spun round. “The fuck are you-” he began, before stopping as he saw Antonio scrabbling up into a sitting position on the floor, holding his right ankle and grinning up at him with a sheepish expression.

“Forgot there was a step.” he said, giving a small giggle as though his clumsiness was a hilarious joke.

If it was, it was a joke Lovino didn't care to get, a look of utter disbelief instead blanketing his face while his mouth worked furiously to try and get a coherent sentence out. “You're-you-you-” He gave a small exasperated growl, fist clenching in his pocket. “Just goddamn it all you're useless! A fucking danger to yourself.”

Antonio seemed to take no notice of his words, instead just staring down at his ankle. “Hey I think I twisted my ankle. Can you help me up? You who's so big and strong and helpful?”

For a few seconds Lovino was tempted to go, to just storm out and leave Antonio to sort himself out. The Spaniard wasn't his problem, the fact that the idiot apparently couldn't even walk down a step without spraining something was his own cross to bear, not Lovino's. He hadn't wanted to put up with him when he'd first met him at the bar and even if the man had managed to worm his way into Lovino's life bit by bit and apparently ended up befriending his brother, he still didn't want to deal with the Spaniard's antics now. He pinches the bridge of his nose with a small sigh, rubbing his tired eyes. Yet despite it all he supposed he owed it to the man after Antonio had helped him home; nor did he want to deal with Feliciano's inevitable whining of 'Lovi you're so mean to leave poor Antonio behind when he hurt his ankle and I asked you to drive him home and wah wah wah'. Lovino sighed again, hands continuing to rub his eyes for a few seconds. He paid his debts, and this was just a settling of debts, after all, nothing more. Antonio had helped Lovino home, Lovino would now help him home, and the two would then owe nothing to the other. _The sacrifices I make just for a bit of peace_ , he thought, frowning as he moved over to Antonio. The Spaniard held an unsteady hand out, grinning just like he usually did.

“How much have you even had to drink?” Lovino asked, keeping his voice neutral as he took Antonio's hand and pulled him up.

Antonio chuckled. “Not that much,” he said,  the slurring  of his words making Lovino doubt him almost instantly, “you'd know if I had  _too_ much. Thanks for being concerned for me though!”

Lovino scowled. “I wasn't concerned for you, you useless bastard. Who would be?” He hauled the giggling Antonio up half onto his shoulder, trying to take the pressure off Antonio's sprained foot, “Like I haven't got better things to do than nurse you like a fucking kid." The Spaniard's laugh got louder at this and Lovino felt Antonio's head lean down to Lovino's shoulder.

“Usually _I_ have to look after _you,_ ” Antonio said, his voice slurred and his breath tickling the Lovino's ear.

Lovino scoffed, his scowl deepening yet further. “Fuck you!  That was  _one_ time! I don't need anyone to  ' look after me ' . Especially not  _you_ .” He took a hesitant step  forward, h e wasn't the strongest of guys and Antonio was heavier than him,  the last thing he wanted to do was end up collapsed on a heap with the other man on him . It certainly didn't help that Antonio seemed to be making no effort to hold himself up, and seemed quite content with draping himself on Lovino's shoulder,  only stepping forward when Lovino moved too far for him to stay in that position . This was only going to end one way. “And stop breathing on me, your breath stinks,” he added as he smelled the alcohol in Antonio's breath, swatting the older man's face back. Antonio only chuckled again, resting his face  against Lovino's hair. 

“Mmm, your hair smells nice, Lovi-” The Spaniard suddenly slipped back as Lovino let go of him, sending him crashing onto the floor. It was only half accidental.

“You're too heavy, you idiot. You're gonna have to haul your useless ass and help me.”

“But Loviiii, my foot's in agony! Can't you carry me in your _big, strong, manly_ arms?” A wide grin spread onto Antonio's face as he sat up.

“Fuck off, don't call me Lovi, stand up, keep the pressure off your foot and balance yourself on my shoulder. Jesus, what are you? Five? You should know this,” Lovino said as he took the older man by the shoulder and pulled him up as gently as he could in his irritated state. He'd only come to pick Feliciano up, not waste his entire evening trying to help this drunk Spanish bastard  get home .  Already he was losing any patience he might have started with. _Fucking Feli, leaving me with this idiot._ He could only imagine that the oversized German had had something to do with Feliciano's plans changing, considering that he'd left with the man. That only soured Lovino's humour yet further as Antonio, still grinning like an idiot, finally stood straight, his bad foot resting lightly off the ground and his hand holding Lovino's shoulder for balance. “You good?  _Finally_ .  L et's move,”  Lovino said, moving towards the door as Antonio hobbled on besides him, hand resting on his shoulder. The two made their way to the door in silence, with only the sound of their breathing and of  the streets outside the club breaking the stillness.  A staff member shepherding the last stragglers out gave him a nod and smile – no doubt imagining the pair had been at the club together – and  with Lovino guid ing the Spaniard  they left .

The night air was cool as they stepped out. The street was still fairly busy, with small groups of people moving up and down the other businesses along the area, either stumbling or sober. As he began to pull Antonio towards the direction of the car, Lovino stopped as his phone buzzed. He flipped it open, the screen showing a text from Feliciano, he opened it;

_**spending the night at luddys, hope you dont mind!**_

_Luddy?_ The stupid nickname alone was enough to make him scowl again, and  he sighed, blowing air out through his clenched teeth.  _Of course, no surprise there,_ he spat mentally as he put the phone away. He didn't even want to know what the two were up to, though he could only imagine  what that oversized German bastard wanted from Feliciano, the little Lovino had seen of him, he had seemed sullen, silent and serious, not exactly the sort to enjoy Feliciano's rather carefree and excitable personality .  It probably didn't  help that  Feliciano knew German , as indeed did Lovino,  the pair growing up  partly in Austria.  Of course, it was perfectly possibly that  'Luddy' and Feliciano were just be friends but years of experience had taught Lovino to expect the worst.  So he'd been ditched for Feli's latest man. Lovino sighed again,  frowning, n ext time he wasn't going to let Feliciano get out of this so easily. He was wrenched from his thoughts by a voice near his ear.

“Who was it?” came Antonio's slurred voice.

“None of your business, nosy bastard,” Lovino replied, flashing the man a scowl as he put his phone back into his pocket. He was aware that he was probably being overly defensive, but after the stunt Feliciano had pulled – leaving him stranded with this sorry excuse for a Spaniard – he wasn't feeling particularly friendly. Especially after he'd insisted to Feliciano that there was no way that he was driving back any of his friends.

Antonio though simply kept grinning like an idiot, eyes blinking continuously as though trying to focus on Lovino. “Aww, you're so cuuute with that pout,” he said before giggling, ducking away as though knowing what to expect.

He was too slow, Lovino's hand shot out, delivering a sharp rebuke in the form of a slap to the back of the older man's head while Lovino turned his face away as he felt the slightest blush creep onto his cheeks. “Sh-shut up! I swear, next time I'm leaving you behind. You're worse than Feli when drunk,” he managed to say. _The fuck is with this guy, seriously?_ he thought, exhaling loudly in exasperation. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Antonio's flirtatious personality at the best of times; having to deal with it when he was already irritated that Feliciano had ditched him and when Antonio was drunk and thus _even more_ likely to not take a hint only made things even worse.

Antonio rubbed the back of his head. “Loviiii, you're so mean,” the Spaniard said, still smiling good-naturedly as though Lovino had just made a sarcastic joke or something. Sending him a glare, Lovino said nothing, simply continuing to guide Antonio forward. The car was still ten minutes away from here, out on the waterfront. _Great._ _Ten_ _minutes_ _of_ _having to help this idiot like a fucking guide dog._

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Lovino frowning deeply, Antonio leaning on his shoulder, limping along. The crowds of people trickled away until they were left walking alone, eventually arriving at the seafront. Like he had when he'd left the car to go to the club, Lovino stopped briefly, breathing in deeply. He loved the smell of the sea and the sound the waves made, breaking against the rocks. Back when they'd lived in Italy with their grandfather, he and Feliciano had often spent the summer by the sea, getting away from Rome, and every night there Lovino would fall asleep to the sound of the waves. That sound had been something he'd missed hugely after he and Feliciano had gone to live with Roderich and Elizabeta in Austria. He still often went down to the sea when he'd had a particularly shitty day, just to sit and relax listening to it.

“Hey,” a quiet voice said near his ear. For a brief moment Lovino had forgotten about Antonio, so lost in his thoughts. “Hey,” Antonio repeated, “Lovi? Lovino, you look sad. You're not even pouting any more. Please don't be sad.” He felt Antonio's arms wrap around him, drawing him into a hug. “I don't want you to be sad.”

For a few seconds Lovino stood there, his body against Antonio's. He could feel the warmth of the Spaniard's body through the thin shirt the man wore, and Lovino felt...comfortable surrounded by those arms. Then his mind slammed back into reality. A furious scowl immediately jumping onto his face, he sent his arms coursing up, slamming into Antonio's chest and pushing him back, almost causing the man to fall over.

“The-the fuck!” he spat, sending the other man a murderous look as he felt a blush cover his face that he could only hope wasn't noticeable in the dark. “That's twice you've done that tonight! Me being distracted doesn't give you the right to fucking grope me!”

Antonio's face looked the perfect mixture of confused and bashful. “G-groping? I just wanted to cheer you up!” he said, his words still slurring.

“Cheering me up isn't invading my personal space! And I don't need cheering up, anyway!”

“You looked sad though!” Antonio protested. “You weren't even frowning in that way you-”

“I was just thinking about what a pain you are! You didn't need to go and prove it.”

Antonio held his hands up in defeat, but he had a slight smile on his lips that only aggravated Lovino more. “Ok, ok, Lovi, I'm sorry! Please forgive me? Pleeeeeeeease? Pleeeeee-”

“Just move. No, on your own!” He added as Antonio tried to lean on him again. “Your foot should be fine now.” _And if it isn't I couldn't care less,_ Lovino added silently.

“Awww, but I like leaning on yo-”

“One more word and you can _walk_ back. I'm only doing this for Feli, so don't test me.”

Antonio opened his mouth as though to say something, then closed it. With a smile, he did an over-exaggerated motion of zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Lovino rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his coat and walking on, Antonio trailing behind him. They walked the last five minutes to the car in silence, or rather, Lovino did, while Antonio loudly hummed some unrecognisable tune. Not gracing the Spaniard with a word, Lovino fished the keys out and opened the car before shepherding Antonio into the passenger seat and getting into the driver's seat himself, slotting the keys in and starting the engine.

“Seatbelt,” he said, fastening his own as Antonio slouched down in the passenger seat.

The still-tipsy Spaniard spent a few seconds pulling himself round and reaching behind hi,m groping around for the belt before he put on an exaggerated pout, turning round to Lovino. “Loviii, I can't find it.”

Lovino growled, clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Fuck, just how fucking useless can you be!?” he snapped at his offending passenger. Exhaling in irritation, he undid his own seatbelt and reached over, one hand supporting himself on the closed door, the other taking the seatbelt by the seat that Antonio had somehow managed to miss. _He's doing it on purpose, I swear!_ “There, see? Just. Right. Fucking. There. Not hard to miss. Have you recovered from your bout of blindness or would you maybe like me to buckle it for you too?”

He felt Antonio's breath tickle his ear again as the Spaniard moved his head forward until his mouth was level with Lovino's ear. “Didn't think you'd be into tying me up,” he said, drunkenly flashing Lovino another one of his endless grins. The smile was soon wiped off as Lovino sent his head sideways into Antonio's face. Antonio gave a yelp of surprise as the side of Lovino's head slammed into his face, hands jumping up to clutch his nose. “Lovi,” he whined, voice slightly nasal. He put on another exaggerated pout. “You're so mean!”

“You're repeating yourself, doucheass,” Lovino said shortly, looking out the driver-side window to hide the traitorous blush that had again crept onto his face. He didn't usually blush like this at everything. What was up with him? He glanced over at the over man who was still holding his nose and felt a twinge of guilt at having hurt Antonio, he could only hope he hadn't hit too hard. This thought in itself made him frown further. _He deserved it, the_ _perverted_ _ass. Saying shit like that._ “Sorry. Nose not bleeding?” he asked, forcing his face into a neutral expression. Antonio shook his head, letting go of his nose. “Good, now buckle up and tell me where I'm supposed to drop you off.” He started the engine, fastening his own seatbelt as Antonio managed to find enough hand-eye coordination to secure his own without help this time and tell Lovino his address.

They were both silent as Lovino guided the car through the mostly-empty streets. Antonio was slouched down in his seat, his eyes closed, breathing fairly loud, while Lovino kept his own eyes fixed on the road before him. With the little traffic that there was, it only took fifteen or so minutes for the car to find itself grounding to a halt in the parking of the apartment complex. Antonio didn't move, eyes still closed, head resting on the window.

“We're here,” Lovino said, his scowl – never far away – returning. The Spaniard didn't respond, still leaning down in his seat, eyes shut. “Oi! We're here! Jesus Christ, I swear, if you've fallen asleep.” Lovino sighed – something he seemed to do fairly often when in the Spaniard's company – unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over to wake up the apparently sleeping man, one hand leaning on the car door to stabilize himself.

Antonio stirred, one hand groping for the door handle. “Ok, ok, 'm moving,” he mumbled, blinking sleepily. His hand found the handle, jerking the door open and leaving empty space where Lovino's hand had been resting. Lovino just had time to swear before collapsing down from where he had been leaning over Antonio to find himself strewn across the Spaniard's lap. It took Antonio a few seconds to clear the cloud of sleep and realize what he'd done.

As it dawned on him, a grin grew on his face. “Awww, Lovi. Just a goodnight kiss would be fine, though if you really want we can go up to my apartment,” he said, laughing and ignoring the murderous look Lovino was sending him.

“Sh-shut the fuck up you perverted bastard!” Lovino spat, restraining himself from hitting the Spaniard a third time tonight and picking himself up, “You do this on purpose, I swear! This only happens around you!”

Antonio grinned at him, getting out the car. He took a few steps, before turning round to face the car again. “Just a joke, Lovi,” he said, voice still slightly slurred but clearly beginning to sober up slightly. Lovino flipped him the bird, still glowering furiously as he started the car again. Antonio simply laughed. “Thanks for the ride Lovi!” He didn't respond, instead opting to reach over and slam the passenger-side door shut. With Antonio waving him off, he drove out of the parking lot.


	5. Chapter 5

It was over a week before Lovino saw the Spaniard again, not that he particularly minded. He still found himself bothered from the teasing the drunk man had given him when he had taken him home. The damn guy had a way of worming his way into Lovino's head, and that only made him more irritable when it came to dealing with the Spaniard. Presently he was taking the late-night shift, yawning softly to himself as he leant across the bar, glancing at the clock. Just past midnight, he'd already called last orders and the bar would close up in a half-hour. He couldn't wait to rest; he felt tired to the bone. It was then that Antonio came in. Lovino caught sight of him across the bar almost immediately and let out a pained sigh to himself, a slight scowl finding its way onto his face. He was tired, had a headache, and was not in the slightest in the mood to put up with the man's quirks.

The Spaniard must have noticed him immediately too, as he gave a small wave, grinning wide as he sat down on the stool opposite Lovino. Lovino leant his elbows on the counter, giving the man little more acknowledgement than his customary frown. “We're not serving any more, closing in a half-hour,” he informed him shortly.

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “Huh? But I thought you closed at three.”

“Yeah, on Fridays and Wednesdays. The rest of the days we close at half-midnight.”

A small frown found its way on the Spaniard's face before he gave a shrug. “Oh well.” He flashed Lovino his usual winning grin. “Suppose I can keep you company instead!”

Lovino sighed, resting his head in one hand as he rolled his eyes. “Riiight, because I've made it so perfectly clear how much I _love_ your company.”

A small chuckle from the other man was his answer. “Well you've got it whether you want it or not, I think I've made that clear at least.”

“And don't I hate you for it. Shouldn't you be heading back, anyway? No point being at a bar if you're not going to drink. I'm sure you've got better things to do than lurk around here harassing me.”

“Nope, it's perfectly fine. I  don't have work tomorrow , so I can sleep in, anyway,” Antonio explained, before continuing on as though Lovino had asked, “I work in a shop you see,  it's closed on Sundays.”

“Well I'm sure you can  harass some other place with your friends rather than pester me.”

Antonio shrugged. “Gilbert's out of town with Francis and Ludwig is-”

“-hanging out with Feliciano,” Lovino finished, scowling  down at the counter . He'd noticed that his brother seemed to be spending a lot of time with the German, and even when he 's c o me to the bar  this week he  had been accompanied by the large man. Lovino hadn't particularly liked  the look of Ludwig to start with, but now that the man seemed to be cutting into the little time  Lovino  spent with his brother and taking up most of  Feliciano's free time,  Lovino was beginning to like him less and less by the day.  It didn't help that Ludwig  seemed to have decided to take the  ' high-road ' against Lovino's insults .  Even when he was at his most irritable, the Italian liked at least to get a reaction from people;  it proved at least that he'd been heard and understood. E ven Antonio, who mostly only reacted by laughing, smiling, or redoubling his efforts, reacted better than the German who would only nod, shake his head or  calmly deny whatever particular insinuation Lovino had accused him of.  The only time Lovino got any satisfactory reaction was when he insinuated about things between the German and Feliciano, at which point  he'd get a flustered response from the man, who would deny everything. It was funny to a point, but in the end it only reminded Lovino that  it seemed Ludwig was  getting rather close to Feliciano, and that meant he'd be seeing Feli even less than before. T he only  other time s he  had the German anything but  mostly calm was when Feliciano was completely drunk, at which point Ludwig would  usually try to keep the energetic Italian out of trouble – and fail more often than not .  He'd even seen him get irritable with  Feli once,  barking orders like an irritated military officer .

A ntonio hadn't stopped talking as Lovino's thoughts returned to the man before him, Antonio giving him a nod. “ - you should see...” he trailed off as his eyes turned to something past Lovino,  something approaching a frown appearing on his face . 

At the same time, a voice came from the side. “Lovino, time to  start shift ing these drunks and-”  T hat voice likewise trailed off as Lovino turned his head to see the bar's owner, Lars.  The tall Dutchman was staring at Antonio, a none-too-impressed look on his  usually dispassionate face,  halfway between a frown and a scowl .  For several seconds there was complete silence between the three.

Antonio spoke first. “Lars,” he said coolly. It was the closest Lovino had heard to actual  dislike or even irritation in the Spaniard's voice.  His voice was cold, it was odd really, Lovino hadn't particularly thought the man was  even capable of  such an emotion .

“ Antonio,” the Dutchman replied,  his  tone likewise  short , “ didn't expect  _you_ here.”

“Well I didn't know  that  _you_ were the Lars who  w ork s here .”

“ This is my bar.  I'm the owner.”

“You did get the bar in the end then? Congratulations.”

“N ot harassing my employee I hope?”  Lovino had been tempted to retort a 'yes', but decided against it:  whatever his personal feelings on the Spaniard, he knew better than stok ing the situation any further  and risking setting off  anything more serious than a few stern words  and false platitudes .

There was a small  humourless chuckle. “I don't think you're the best person to be asking about hara-”

For a brief moment something close to hate flashed across Lars' face before he interrupted the other.  It seemed Antonio's words had hit a nerve. “We're closing.  S o if I could... _kindly_ ask you to leave.  A nd I'm sure there's  other bars you can hang around at,  ones that aren't here .  And I'm sure there's some clubs you'll find to your liking not far from here. ”  He stared at the Spaniard  coldl y ,  and Lovino heard him mutter  something  in Dut ch under his breath before  t he  man moved off to shift the rest of the few remaining customers.  Antonio stared down at the counter, a frown on his face as he ran a hand through his hair.

Lovino waited a few seconds and when the man said nothing, he stared at him, raising an eyebrow and drumming his fingers on the countertop. “Well?” he asked.

Antonio looked up, frown shifting off into a more neutral expression. “Huh?”

“Well? What was  _that_ about?”

“ Oh,” Antonio's hand shot up to rub at the back of his neck  and he avoided Lovino's glare, “it's nothing, don't worry about it.”

“ Seriously? You expect me to brush that off? Lars snaps at me if  _I'm_ too short with customers  and you expect me to ignore him  acting like that with one?”

A small smile found its way on Antonio's face. “Hey! You're short and rude with me all the time.”

“You're an exception.  Now answer. ”

“ It's nothing,” Antonio repeated.

Lovino leant forward on the counter,  his expression making it very clear he didn't believe a word . “ Nothing doesn't  make Lars suggest a customer stays out.  Only other time I've seen him bar customers is when they harass people or start fights, not sit there quietly. What was it? A  no-doubt thrilling tale of backstabbing and woe?  Or are you both reincarnations of ancient arch-enemies? ”

“ What's it to you anyway?  It's private business. ” Antonio's tone was defensive now, to  Lovino's surprise.  Maybe he should have thought better than to crack some jokes about the situation when Antonio seemed to take it pretty strongly to heart.  Still, t he tanned man was usually  so breezy and carefree  that he couldn't help but be curious ;  it was Lovino's job to be defensive,  not Antonio's ,  so t o hear  him now so reluctant to speak was a complete about face from his usual attitude.  _What_ _'s it to you_ _anyway?_ That was a good question; why  _did_ Lovino even care? Whatever history Lars and Antonio had together was not his concern.  Hadn't h e wanted as little of Antonio in his life  as possible? Hell, if Lars could convince the man the stay away from the bar and thus leave Lovino alone that could only be a winning situation,  coul dn't it ?

“Fine,  fine, keep your secrets, I don't care,  better get ready to go though, we  _are_ closing, ”  the Italian muttered,  pushing himself up from the counter and moving off to help Lars clear the bar.

The few people left were easily shifted,  either stumbling out or – in one case – being  helped out propped between two friends. Once the people were gone, Lovino  glanced over to Antonio only to see that at some point  in the few minutes Lovino had left him the Spaniard had  gone .  Shrugging to himself he moved to help  Lars clear  and wipe-down the tables  and put the stools up,  removing the rest of the glasses and bottles and other mess the customers had left .  They worked pretty fast at two, and within  fifteen minutes the place was mostly clear. Lovino had bid  t he Dutchman a good night and shrugged on his jacket when – to his surprise – Lars stopped him.

The Dutchman had a small frown on his face rather than his usual impassive and neutral expression. “Lovino,” he said, his tone serious, “if Antonio bothers you any more, tell me and I'll get rid of him.”

A small sting of wounded pride rose up in Lovino. “I'm perfectly capable of getting rid of him myself,  jeez .”

Lars shrugged. “Whatever.  J ust don't bother with him,  he's no good.”  He stared rather pointedly at Lovin o . “ I'm serious .”

A scowl jumped onto Lovino's face. “ _What?_ There's nothing between us,  jeez .  Do you always assume that me talking to a customer means we're together? ”

The slightest of smile s rose on Lars' features. “Considering how much you go out of you r way to avoid talking to customers more than you have to: yes, I do.”  Lovino rolled his eyes  at this ,  muttering another good night to the man and turning round to leave again. Lars didn't stop him this time. 

T he Italian moved out into the cold night air,  letting out a deep sigh  as he stretched his arms and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets .  He let loose a second sigh as he saw who was leaning on the wall of the building:  Antonio was there, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a frown on his face.  When he saw Lovino he gave a grin and a small wave.

“You weren't seriously waiting for me were you?” Lovino asked, his tone clearly not impressed.

The Spaniard gave an evasive shrug, smiling. “I was just taking a break before heading home.”

“Those things'll rot your lung s , you know.”

A small chuckle. “I know. I really don't smoke much, just every so often – mostly when I'm stressed or the like. I used to be a lot worse. I'm slowly giving them up.”

Lovino began to move along, and the Spaniard moved up to walk besides him; Lovino didn't stop him. “What? Stressed after your little confrontation with Lars?”

Antonio's frown returned; in one evening Lovino  could swear  he had seen him frown more times than in all their previous encounters.  The man gave a pained sigh,  taking a drag  and blowing out a small cloud of smoke  into the night air .  He said nothing for a few seconds before finally speaking, voice dispassionate. “ Lars and I dated,  over a year ago or so, now, if I'm remember right. We weren't together for  that long  and we broke up  pretty nastily,  hence our 'little confrontation' .” 

Something small and unexpected churned up from the bottom of Lovino's stomach as he processed what Antonio had just said. He squelched it; what was he even getting  worked up about? Instead he raised an eyebrow at the man besides him.  “ What? Suddenly you're spilling  out the entire story ?  After being all 'what's it to you' back there? ”

Antonio grinned over to the Italian. “ Well, h onest y i s the best policy.  It's not like Lars probably won't bitch about me now he knows I go there. ”

Lovino blew air out through his teeth, giving a shrug. “Whatever. Whatever issues you have with Lars I don't really care.”

The Spaniard looked affronted.  “ I don't have  _issues._ It was over a year ago! I t's him that can't let go.”

“As far as I can tell, you were both rude to each other.”

Antonio raised  a hand defensively. “I was rude in response to him being rude first.”

“ 'He started it'? That's your defence, seriously?  You're starting to sound like a kid trying to worm out of being punished now.”

A grin spread over the other man's face.  “ What, now you're gonna punish me?”

“You start that shit again and I'm outta here.”

“ Aww,  I was just joking.”

“Then get a joke that's actually funny. Being creepy isn't funny, it's creepy.  It's i mplicit in the name you see. ”  Lovino could have sworn he saw the Spaniard roll his eyes in the dim light of the street lamps.

Antonio dropped the cigarette stub, crushing it underfoot. “Well,  either way, it's in the past, even if Lars wants to make a big deal out of it.”

“ What did you even break up over for it to be such a deal a year later?”

The Italian got a sly, sideways grin from the Spaniard  for that . “Aren't you the guy who constantly berates me for being tactless and not 'reading the atmosphere'?”

He was right, and that only made  Lovino scowl. “Hey, I'm just asking  from curiosity ,  you bastard!  Being forward and being oblivious  and tactless are too different things. ”

That only widened the other man's grin  further .  He was enjoying this, it seemed. “Bit of a  probing question, especially for someone who keeps insisting he wants nothing to do with me .”

Lovino  sighed in frustration.  “ Fine.  Whatever. Don't answer, I don't really care.”

“ I'm afraid  I could only answer to a friend.” The tanned man's smile was sly. Lovino was not impressed.

“If this is some weird way to get me to be friends with you it's not working, and pretty stupid.”

“ Aw c'mon, why are you so intent on not ma k ing friends?  Feli - ”

A furious scowl set itself on Lovino's features  and he cut the man off mid-word . “ Feli what?  What the fuck are you blabbering about?”  He stopped to stare at the other man, breath rising in front of him as he narrowed his eyes .

Antonio raised his hands in a pre-emptive calming gesture,  clearly realising where this was going . “ Well it's just-”

“ I know what you were trying to say,”  Lovino snapped. “What?  Was it going to be another 'Feliciano doesn't do this so why do you'  or maybe a 'why can't you be more like Feli'?”

“ No! I wasn't trying to compa re you, it's just Feli said -”

His attempts to defuse the situation came too late:  after a long, tiring evening and with a headache that throbbed at the back of his head Lovino was  in no mood to have some kind of psychological pep-talk, which seemed to be where Antonio was headed. Lovino scowl ed , taking his hands out of his pockets to point accusingly, and devolving into little more than an angry rant as the stress of the past week or so boiled up inside him .  “Or  has Feliciano been mouthing off  with his favourite pet theories about how clearly I'm an unlikeable douchebag because of  our childhood or because secretly I just need a man or woman or more friends ?  Did he give his entire shitty little thesis on the subject; including how clearly  I was just so darn jealous of him because he was the family favourite ? Have you just maybe considered that I don't wan t to be friends with someone w ho doesn't know when to shut up ? ”  Lovino was mouthing off now, feeling pretty  enraged with both Feliciano for  apparently talking about him behind his back and Antonio for trying to corner him with  whatever Lovino's brother had told him .

The Spaniard looked completely apologetic now, hands raised, features sorry. “I'm sorry! I  wasn't trying to compare you to Feliciano . He just mentioned  something once; he wasn't talking  badly about you, I swear! He just  said you have a tendency to- . ”

“ Oh it's that old shit again. A tendency to push people away or such, right? A tendency to be anti-social, yes? Have you maybe not considered that Feli and I have had this conversation a  _fuckton_ of times and each time it comes out the same: he fails to understand I'm not a fucking sup-er-happy social puppy like him and  _am perfectly happy like that._ ”  He shoved his hands back into his pocket. “Is that all? Or should we go down the Freud route and ask about my non-existent relationship with my fucking mother too?”

“ I-”

“ What the fuck  even made you think it was a good idea to start whining to someone about how terrible  and anti-social they are?!  Jesus  almighty fuck you 're such a social calamity it's a miracle you don't get fucking punched every time you open your mouth.  Wha- ”

“ Goddammit Lovino,” Antonio  snapped,  cutting Lovino off mid-word in  his turn . “I didn't mean anything by it!  I wasn't trying to be  mean – I just wanted to know,  it was rude, sure, and I'm sorry . All Feliciano said was that you tend to push people away even when later you end up as friend with them. Right, maybe I shouldn't have talked about it, I was tactless – y'know, like you accuse me of being all the time?” He sounded...irritated now.  And this time not with Lars or someone else, but with Lovino himself.  That in itself stunned  Lovino into silence. He didn't think he had seen the other man ever get annoyed or irritated with him.  Yet on reflection  for all he knew  Antonio  _had_ gotten irritated with  Lovino's rebuffs, and just  kept it to himself, persever ing nonetheless.  He supposed that he had seen the man act  so oblivious to Lovino's harsh rebukes that  the idea that maybe Antonio had not been so  clueless ,  that he just didn 't react outwardly,  had not occurred to him . The idea of Antonio angry  or annoyed  at him bothered Lovino  – at least when people vocalised and made clear their anger with him he could convince himself that  it didn't matter, that they were not worth the worry . The thought of Antonio keeping that irritation  bubbling inside for whatever reason though just bothered him and left him off-footed, and that in turn only bothered him more.  What did he care what the guy thought? He couldn't possibly be warming up to the Spaniard? The sheer idea was ridiculous.  I t was only that Lovino was getting used to the annoyance, surely?  It was more a case of not wasting his time, no?  And yet here he was, feeling pretty stupid and  more than a bit guilty at having  overreacted so angrily for what had been an innocent – if tactless – query.  _Like a kid having a temper tantrum,_ he thought,  and wasn't that a familiar turn of phrase.

He sighed deeply,  looking down and glancing away, turning his body away from Antonio  “OK, fine,  whatever. L et's just go,  I'm cold and tired and want to get home sooner rather than later, ” he said,  his voice  rath er dispassionate .

The Spaniard hung back for a few seconds, and Lovino thought he was angry enough that he wouldn't walk with the Italian any more – and that bothered him even more than it should. Finally though Antonio moved to walk besides Lovino once more, his face apologetic again. “I'm sorry I snapped.”

Lovino rolled his eyes. “Fuck, stop apologising for everything. What are you, a kid?” He wasn't even at fault here, it was Lovino that'd reacted like a kid, it usually was.

“ It never hurts to apologise.” Lovino couldn't help but feel that was directed at him and said nothing, frowning and keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

They walked in silence for several minutes more,  the only sound an occasional passing car  or passing stragglers in the streets .  Eventually they came to a crossroads and Antonio turned to Lovino. “ So, uh, good night?” he said, holding out his hand.

Lovino stared at him for a few seconds, hesitating, before finally shaking his hand. “Yeah, sure, good night.”  Antonio grinned at this, giving the Italian a final wave before putting his hands back into his pockets and turning round, walking down the road. Lovino stared after him for a few seconds, before shaking his head and stuffing his own hands back into his jacket, turning to continue home.


	6. Chapter 6

The phone rang and a scowling Lovino untangled himself from his sheets and grabbed it, checking the time: 10:27. Since he usually worked the night-shifts he tended to sleep in late. He looked to see who was calling: Feliciano. His brother occasionally called Lovino to talk, but usually he'd only call in the afternoon, knowing that Lovino worked long nights. With a sigh as he blinked sleep from his eyes, he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear, rubbing his eyes with his free hand, letting out a yawn.

“Hey Lovi!” Feliciano's bright and chirpy voice assaulted his ear from the other line, speaking their native Italian. “I'm not interrupting anything am I?”

“Oh you know, just my sleep. I mean, goddammit Feli, you know full well I don't get up for another half-hour at least, how many times do we have to go over this?”

“But then half the day will be gone!”

“And I usually work half the night so it's not like I'm sleeping my life away. God dammit, it's far too early for your lectures on 'good living'.”

“Sorry! I didn't want to leave it too late though and I-”

Lovino interrupted him there, sensing that his brother was probably on the cusp of devolving into another tangent and wasting both their time. “Leave what late?”

“Oh, I was wondering if you wanted to come for dinner this evening! Normally you don't work in the evenings today right? So it should be fine. Please?” Lovino mulled it over in his mind, saying nothing for a few seconds. He knew he was probably going to accept, and Feli probably knew so too. He was always secretly pleased when Feliciano invited him over for dinner, as they usually did two or three times a month or so, it showed that while the two of them might have drifted apart since their childhood, especially in their social lives, they remained family.

That said, he never liked to appear too eager so he left the line silent for a few moments before replying. “OK fine, what time?”

“Is six OK? I'll drive you back if you want.”

“Fine, but I'll take the bus there and back, it's no problem. Do I need to bring anything?”

“No, it's all alright!” There was a pause. “Uh, also...”

“What?”

“No, nothing! I'll see you then, then!”

“Yeah, sure, now let me sleep, bye.”

“Bye!” And with that Lovino hung up the phone, replacing it by his bedside and collapsing back into bed, sighing. Since it was Sunday he had no work today, and could probably sleep well into the afternoon if he wanted. That said he hated doing that, it messed up his entire sense of time and despite what he'd told Feliciano, it left him feeling he'd wasted the entire day, even if the usual time he got up tended to be when most of the morning had passed. He looked over to the clock again: 10:33. His alarm would go off in less than a half-hour, and there was no way he'd fall asleep again in that time. Groaning, he pulled the sheets off of him and pulled himself out of bed, grabbing his trousers off his chair and pulling them on before leaving the room to make breakfast.

What was left of the morning passed quickly as Lovino had his usual coffee and breakfast before settling himself on his couch and reading for an hour or so. The afternoon likewise passed quickly and before long Lovino shrugged on his jacket and headed for the door. Feliciano lived on the other side of the city, more than an hour's walk away. His apartment was futher from the city centre but in a much nicer neighbourhood than Lovino's: it paid to have a fancy art job rather than just being a bartender. While Lovino tended to walk to most places – shops, work, and so on – he was not prepared to spend an hour trudging in the autumn cold, his breath collecting in the air the moment he stepped outside, and so one bus ride later he found himself at the foot of Feliciano's apartment building. Feliciano must have seen him coming as a short elevator ride to the third floor and he was promptly pulled into a hug by his grinning brother.

Lovino let a small but sincere smile creep onto his face as he gave Feliciano a small pat on the back. “Yeah, yeah. Happy to see you too. Let's not make some big scene,” he muttered, slipping into their native Italian.

Feliciano let go of him, still grinning like a maniac. “Well then, come in, come in. How's everything at work? I saw Manon just the other day at the city centre and-” He started babbling, caught up in his story as he usually was. Feliciano had a knack for conversation, he could always think of a conversation piece, or talk for ages without boring people, even if he just babbled as he was doing now. Lovino mostly hated small talk; he quite frankly did not care to spend time talking about about how the weather was not the same as yesterday's, or how some man's hat had flown away when you were shopping, or how your neighbour upstairs had apparently dropped something heavy, waking you up at two in the morning. Conversation for conversation's sake usually bored him unless it was genuinely interesting or funny. He stepped into the apartment as Feliciano continued to talk excitedly about his and Manon's meeting, only half-listening to his brother. The small entry hallway was its usual clean self, but he knew from long experience that only the corridor and the living room were this tidy, for polite show and convenience. The rest of the place would be strewn all over with random things his brother hadn't bothered to tidy away: books or magazines he'd been reading, clothes he'd just abandoned on the floor or on chairs, and sometimes even art supplies from where he'd left his work room with a tube of paint or the like and just put it down somewhere while doing something else and leaving it there.

Feliciano was wrapping up his little story about his visit to the city centre as Lovino followed him to the kitchen, two pots were bubbling on the stove and he could hear the hum of the oven, cooking a log-like piece of meat.

He leant back against the counter. “Need any help?”

Feliciano shook his head, pulling two wine-glasses from a cupboard and setting them onto the counter. “It's all fine, it's rice, meatloaf, and potatoes. That's all good right?” He took a bottle of red wine from beneath the counter, opening it and pouring it into the glasses, offering one to Lovino.

Lovino took it and shrugged. “Yeah, sure, that's all fine.” He took a sip of the wine, letting it rest on his tongue to get a good taste before swallowing. “A bit much just for two though – and odd choice.” He grinned. “It's usually just pasta.”

Feliciano leant against the wall, looking over at Lovino opposite him. “Yeah...” He drifted off before taking a sip of wine and continuing. “About that. I was going to tell you before but Ludwig is coming over too. Antonio too.”

A scowl jumped onto Lovino's face. “What.”

Feliciano bit his lip, not meeting Lovino's glare. “I was gonna tell you on the phone, but...”

“But?”

“But if I had, you'd have refused to come!”

“Damn right! As if I'd want to spend time with Mr. Muscle and Mr. Clueless.” He had to put up with Antonio at work and now the man was going to follow him into his private time with his brother?

“You think I enjoy having to lie to my brother just to get him to meet new people? You'd like them if you just spent more time with them! And I mean _actually_ spending time with them, not hurling insults and looking for excuses to leave!”

“Excuse me? Who I'm friends with is my  _own_ fucking concern. I don't need you acting like some little social guru trying to force me into making friends  with people I can't stand! ”  Lovino's face was red now; Feliciano's  neutral:  he'd obviously been expecting this reaction .  That didn't make Lovino any calmer.

“ That's not true! I've seen you and Antonio, you definitely like him more than you pretend and you'd probably like  his friends too, if you gave them a chance! ”

“ I don't need you to act like my personal shrink god-fucking-dammit!  Why don't you just invite the whole gang  then while you're at it? You pretty much only babble about the four of them anyway.”  His hand was  actually shaking with rage now,  some wine  sloshing up the sides of the glass  to spill out onto it .

“Gilbert and Francis?  They're both out of town, Francis is visiting an old friend and  Gilbert's out  to \- hey! Don't change the subject!” Feli 's eyes finally met Lovino's, more defiant this time . “ I'm not trying to act like your 'personal shrink'. I just want you to get to know my friends better – if you like them,  great! I f not, fine!  At least you would have  _tried_ ! That's your problem, you never even try, you just write people off before you've even met them!  Or you just take an initial impression then ignore anything else! It's not always some big evil conspiracy with everyone out to get you!” Feliciano was beginning to get worked up now,  putting his glass down and crossing his arms as he frowned at Lovino . “ I mean c'mon Lovi, just about every friend you've had is someone you started off constantly claiming you couldn't stand.”

Lovino  leant  against  the counter in total silence, scowl ing into his  glass, swirling the wine rou nd .  Across from him Feliciano was biting his lip, clearly worried he'd gone too far and  that Lovino was about to throw an angry tantrum and storm out .  After his last tantrum against Antonio Lovino wasn't feeling much like reacting so strongly, leaning back  and staring up at the ceiling as he blew air out between his teeth. “ Whatever,”  he said at last. “I'm already here and the food's already ready.” He had a feeling he'd be regretting his decision.  There was no doubt that h e'd be better served finishing his glass and leaving now.

A  relieved smile leapt onto Feliciano's face  at his words though . “Great! I'm serious, just give them a proper chance.  I mean, if you don't try to get to know them how can you ever know if you'd be friends or not? ”  Lovino simply grunted,  face still furious, eyes still fixed on his drink.

An uneasy s ilence enveloped the two as they stood there,  emotions calming, sipping at their wine without a word.  A pparently reassured Lovino wasn't going to storm off  back home any moment now, after two minutes or so Feliciano pushed himself off the wall and moved off to the cooker, checking on the food.  Lovino watched him for a while, emptying his glass just as he heard a  knock.

Feliciano didn't look round from where he was carefully taking the meatloaf out  from the oven. “That's probably them. Can you go get it?” Lovino didn't move. “Pleeease Lovi?” With a deep sigh Lovino pushed himself off the counter, turning round out of the kitchen towards the door.  He hesitated once at the door, hand hovering over the  lock . The knock came again,  strong against the wood .  He sighed once again for good measure and opened the door.

He was greeted by Ludwig's impassive face;  the German didn't seem  too surprised to see  him there, no doubt Feliciano had warned in advance that Lovino  might be  present .  The thought of being warned against like some hazard or pest almost brought another scowl to Lovino's face before he forced his expression to remain polite and neutral.

Ludwig gave what he was sure was a forced smile,  holding his hand out politely . “ Ah, uh, g ood evening Lovino.  I hope everything is good?”

“Could be better,” Lovino ground out, ignoring the proffered hand and moving back from the doorway to let the larger man in.

“ Come on through Luddy, I'm just finishing the food!” Feliciano called from the kitchen.

“ _Luddy_ , pfff...” Lovino muttered under his breath, half-chuckling half-mocking.  He'd already heard the nickname from Feliciano but  using it to embarrass the man in person felt much better. Indeed,  h e felt a pang of delight at seeing a small  red  f lush fill Ludwig's face before the German moved off in direction of the kitchen,  muttering a small thanks to Lovino .  He closed the door and leant against it, rolling his eyes as he listened to Feliciano and Ludwig greet each other.  He did not like how close the two were getting: even to the point of having nicknames. What was next, pet names?  Or  could you already consider 'Luddy' a pet name? He spent at least a few minutes slouched in the hall, unwilling to go and find himself playing the third wheel to  the pair, or worse, end up having the two try to strike up a n awkward forced conversation to include him .  Yet another sigh escaped his lips as he crossed his arms,  trying to drown out the  inane prattle coming from the kitchen.  He clenched his fist. This was supposed to be his and Feliciano's time. He already had to put up with the German and his friends when they turned up with Feli at the bar, why did he have to now put up with them here, in the last refuge of what family time he and Feliciano had?

Another knock on the door jarred him out of his thoughts.  He didn't move for a few seconds and the knock rung again. Feli's voice sounded from the other room. “Lovi, can you-”

“I'm on it,” Lovino snapped  back, not letting Feliciano finish as he push ed himself off the door and turning round to face it.  Once more he hesitated before opening it. He knew who'd be on the other side and he wasn't sure he wanted to see him  after last night .  A few more seconds passed before he finally swung the door open. 

Antonio  indeed stood on the other side, his perpetual grin on his face  as ever .  He didn't waste a second,  holding his hand out . “ _¡_ _Hola_ Lovino!  How's things?”

Lovino  sighed,  resigning himself to giving the man an unenthusiastic handshake a nd replied with the same neutral response he'd given Ludwig. “Could be better.”  He moved out the way, letting the Spaniard in.

“ Work all good?”

“ You were there just yesterday. I don't work Sundays,  hence why I'm here, so yes, work has been exactly the same since you last  saw me at it.”

Antonio simply chuckled at this, smile never faltering,  scratching the back of his neck . “Yeah, sorry. I  forgot you don't work today .”

“ Not exactly difficult to remember .”

Antonio raised his hands defensively,  his smile dropping  slightly into a more flustered expression . “ Yeah, sorry. I just  sorta asked the question before remembering is all . ”  Lovino said nothing to that,  knowing perfectly well that he was  being unfair and jumping on anything he could.  Overly aggressive maybe, but definitely stress relieving .  With a small nod but no further  word s he simply cross ed his arms and stalk ed back to the other room. Feliciano and Ludwig were still talking  about some inane thing or another as they began moving the food off to the table.

“ Glad you could make it Antonio! Please sit down guys, we'll eat soon, don't want it to get cold!” Feliciano said, beaming widely as Antonio followed Lovino through.  Lovino sat himself down, listening disinterestedly as Antonio, Ludwig and Feliciano  began exchang ing platitudes, keeping his eyes trained  on the various paintings  hung up around the room. Feliciano had always been proud of his artwork and liked nothing better than to display it, even if he never drew attention to it. Lovino remembered the one time he'd commented on them,  his brother had puffed up with pride even as he pretended they were nothing much.  Antonio sat himself down to the left of Lovino around the square table. Ludwig  brought over the potatoes and rice, one in each hand and placed them in the centre of the table, sitting himself opposite  him , so th at Feliciano w ould be to Lovino's right. 

Lastly,  Feliciano brought over the meatloaf, bringing it over in a tray so that it was marinating in its juices. “Help yourself guys!” he said eagerly, a wide smile on his face as he sat himself down.  He began chatting excitedly to Antonio about how everything was, while he poured out some wine to everyone.  Ludwig nodded, taking up the cutlery and slicing into the meat, proffering a piece to Feliciano, then to Antonio and finally to Lovino, who brought up his plate and grunted his thanks, keeping a neutral, disinterested expression on his face.  He  helped himself to a few potatoes and a helping of rice, keeping his eyes trained on the food as he pushed it around his plate in-between mouthfuls, only half listening to the conversation between the other three men.  Feliciano and Antonio seemed to have moved on from updating each other about their lives into discussion over work, Ludwig joining in.  He learnt that Ludwig worked in some sort of accounting job, while Antonio was a shop assistant in a local shop, sorting out deliveries, cleaning,  stacking, anything that needed doing . What was  Lovino even still doing here?  He had no desire to be here at all, he'd come to see and chat with his brother, now he had to put up with these two clowns monopolising Feliciano's time and drowning out any proper conversation  he could have with his brother by discussing their inane  prattle and-

“ What about yourself, Lovino?” A voice suddenly jolted him out of his  thoughts and he raised his eyes to find himself being stared at by all three others. “How's work been treating you?” Ludwig continued, clearly intent on trying to include his new friend's brother in the conversation.  D amn him,  he was almost perfect for Feliciano in the way he seemed intent on doing that .

Lovino rolled his eyes. “Oh it's been just peachy,” he replied, voice laced with sarcasm. A thin  sardonic smile slipped onto his face as he glanced over at Antonio. “Although there 's been a new customer these past coupla weeks.”  He raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Real piece of work, harasses the staff like you wouldn't believe,  quite the class act .”

It took a few seconds for Antonio to understand just who  Lovino was referring to and as he did, a  wide smile grew on his own face. “Oh I don't know,” he said, voice feigning innocence, “by all accounts their bar man there  is quite the act himself.”

Lovino turned, eyes boring into Antonio's. “I'm sure he could never get even close to the shit this guy's  been up to. Had to be driven home one time because he'd somehow managed to hurt himself and couldn't walk.”

Antonio's  smile only grew. “Didn't yo u \- ah,  _'the bar_ _man_ _'_ need to be taken home one night too?”  He finished the rest of his glass, a sly grin on his face. “Had to be escorted all the way to his door, as I remember.”

“Only because you're a paranoid stalker  and Manon can't leave well enough alone .  I could have got home perfectly fine, let alone right up to my door, ” Lovino ground out,  dropping the pretence of who  exactly they were talking about. His response provoked a chuckle from the Spaniard  and he  speared a  small potato onto his fork, pointing it accusingly towards the man,  a nother thin smile forming on his face . “At least I never had to be  _buckled into my own seat_ because I couldn't work a simple seat-belt.”

“ Well-”

“Nor did  _I_ fall asleep on the way back.”

It was Feliciano who spoke next, an excited look on his face as though he'd  just stumbled on a treasure cove. “ H ey, what's all this about? You never told me anything about this!  Did you need to be taken home one night, Lovi? ”

“ I didn't  _need_ to be,”  Lovino retorted, spinning round to face his brother. “ I would have gotten back perfectly fine and safely.  And it's none of your business anyway.”

Antonio  though, chuckled, nodd ing at Feliciano's words  and continuing on  despite Lovino .  “ Well maybe two weeks ago or so, Lovino got drunk one evenin g -”

“I did not get drunk!  I was perfectly fine! ”  Lovino  protested , turning round to face the Spaniard again. “ Why are you even bringing it up? It's not like we had some magical fucking adventure, all we did was walk a while and then go our separate ways. Now j ust drink your goddamn wine and shut up,”  he said,  grabbing the bottle of wine from the table  and pouring  some into Antonio's glass, mustering the best glare he could.  He pour ed himself some more too and t ook a sip of it.  Despite the death-glare he was sending the Spaniard, he didn't feel nearly as angry as he'd expected to be. The other man duly stopped talking,  raising the wine-glass to his lips, though his sly smile remained even as Feliciano pressed for more infor mation,  clearly intent on digging something up .  With neither Lovino nor Antonio detailing further, the conversation drifted off  to other matters.  Time passed quickly as they ate and chatted about various topics, Lovino occasionally butting in to add his opinion on the matter  but  saying little more  otherwise .

As everyone finished eating they cleared the table. The whole little dinner having been planned on such short notice Feliciano had no proper dessert to offer, simply suggesting fruits instead,  with tea, coffee or more wine .  Lovino declined  all of them , insisting  that he had a busy day tomorrow and had stuff to prepare, though the look on his brother's face suggested Feliciano had seen straight through his attempt at  finding an excuse to leave .  Giving them all a  curt,  polite goodbye he  got up, moving off to grab his jacket and shrugging it on  before  heading for the door. 

He'd just stepped  out  into the night air when a hand grabbed the door  behind him,  holding it open .  Lovino turned to glance at its owner and frowned deeply as he saw just who it was. His usual grin on his face, Antonio stepped out  beside Lovino. “ _Hola_ ,” he said, “had to go early too, early for work tomorrow.”

Lovino sighed, nodding, face impassive. “Don't want to be the third wheel, too, I imagine.”

A confused expression hit the other man's face and he tilted his head. “Eh?”

Lovino simply stared at him for a few seconds. “Oh c'mon, you  _must_ have noticed the pair  up there making googly eyes at each other?” he said disbelievingly. Antonio shook his head. “Fuck, half of what Feli talks about nowadays is 'Luddy this' and 'Luddy that'!  They've got pet names! Feli calls him Luddy! ”

Antonio laughed, shrugging. “ And he calls you Lovi  and you call him Feli, they're nicknames, not pet names. I'm sure t hey're just friends, Lovino.  T here's nothing there, don't you think you're taking things the wrong way?”

Lovino rolled his eyes, a sharp chuckle escaping his lips. “Sure, let me just believe the unobservant idiot.  You'd think a Spaniard would be able to pick up those sort of signs. ”

“ Hey now! That's a hateful stereotype, puts all sort of undue pressure on us.” The tanned man grinned. “Though I'm sure as an Italian you must have had people make those sorts of assumptions too.”

“ Oh p lease, with my attitude?”  Antonio chuckled  at that , a smile even reaching Lovino's face as silence descended between the two of them for a few seconds.  It was a harsh cry from yesterday.

The silence broke as Antonio reached up to scratch the back of his neck, looking across at  him . “Uh, hey, before I forget. Are you free around 12 tomorrow? If so, do you want to  maybe go get a coffee or something maybe?” Lovino stood stony-faced for several seconds. This again? Did  t he  man ever give up? He opened his mouth to deliver a sharp refusal but was stopped as Antonio raised his hands in a pre-emptive calming ge sture. “Strictly just as friends!” he quickly added. “You've made your position real clear and I respect that. I'm not gonna bug you or anything, but I do honestly enjoy talking with you.”

Lovino said nothing for several seconds longer, mind churning through all this. Why id this guy never give up?Did Antonio really think they could be friends? Hadn't the insults and sheer unfriendliness Lovino had dished out told him just what he thought of that? He was sure he didn't make much of a good friend anyway,  and how could the Spaniard enjoy spending time with him when half of what Lovino said were just insults? Maybe the man just hadn't spent enough time with him to realise that he was wasting his time. Well, what harm could it do anyway? He sighed deeply, giving a shrug. “Fine,” he said shortly.

A wider grin shot onto Antonio's face as he nodded happily. “Great!” The y spoke a minute or so longer as the Spaniard  suggested a coffee-shop  near the main square, telling him they should meet at  the square near midday since that was when he had an hour's lunch brea k. T hen with a wave the two separated into the night.  Breath collecting before him in the cold night air, Lovino shoved his hands into his jacket, staring down at the ground.  He was not sure he was happy with what he'd agreed to.  S ighing once more for good measure h e crossed the road, kicking the curb softly, lost in thought as he made his way down to the bus-stop  and home .


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey all! Can't apologise enough for the looooong delay in this chapter, I'll just leave it as: been a very long year for me! Updates should come faster now. Another note, I've gone through each previous chapter, just updating and rewriting a few things here and there. There are no large-scale plot changes or the like so you don't need to rewrite it, I just felt it flowed better and worked better as a whole.

Lovino was already frowning deeply as he got up the next day. He was cracking, he could feel it. The damn Spaniard was ever so slowly worming his way into Lovino's life bit by bit and every time they met he found the man less and less irritating. Feliciano's words from last evening rose unbidden to his mind; _I've seen you and Antonio, you definitely like him more than you pretend._ Lovino scowled at his reflection as he shaved. _Goddammit Feli_ : for all Feliciano's air-headed personality, he could be amazingly perceptive, poking his nose everywhere and somehow always managing to be right about Lovino. As he went about his morning routine Lovino's mind churned over the situation. What exactly was he so upset about anyway? What was wrong with making a new friend? Surely if he was starting to enjoy Antonio's company that was a good thing? If he went today he'd have seen the Spaniard three days in a row, certainly not exactly the best way to avoid someone, and certainly not the way someone who hated the man would be acting. And yet at the same time he couldn't hide the familiar old feelings that he'd felt so many times before. _God in Heaven, I hate dealing with people._ He valued his peace and quiet, never felt the drive to maintain friends.Being gregarious, making friends, keeping them, being at the centre of events and people; that was all Feliciano's territory, it always had been and if Lovino had resented that in their childhood, he now accepted and even valued it in their adulthood.

He frowned up at the clock, it was already half-eleven. He'd agreed to meet Antonio around twelve at the central town square. It took  about twenty minutes at most to walk there from his apartment, if he left now he'd get there nicely on time. He didn't, however, instead loafing around the kitchen several minutes longer, mumbling to himself  as he tidied a few things away. There was a knot in his stomach this morning that he couldn't seem to get rid of. Was he nervous about going? He glanced at the clock,  quarter to twelve.  _Am I even going?_ His eyes fell on a card he'd left on top of the fridge, a birthday card from Manon. He'd been wary of her too at the start, even if  outwardly he'd been much more polite  and even friendly to her  as a woman  and colleague than  he was  to Antonio.  He gave a pained sigh, grabbing his wallet, phone, and keys and pulling on his jacket, stepping out into the cold,  crisp Autumn air.

He arrived at the square at  ten minutes late , face slightly red from the cold and the walk as he looked around through the crowds of people passing through, trying to spot the Spaniard. Had Antonio already assumed that Lovino wasn't coming and left?  He was only ten minutes late, that seemed excessive. And even if Lovino had been twenty minutes late, leaving didn't seem like  Antonio at all.  _The man gives up for nothing..._

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, letting out a small strangled cry of surprise as he spun round to fine himself opposite the grinning face of the tanned man he'd been looking for. “Hey there Lovino! Glad you could make it,” the Spaniard said immediately, cutting Lovino off just as he'd been about to spout off a furious remark over surprising him thus.

“Yeah,” Lovino replied simply, glancing down at his phone, “sorry I'm late, I, uh, was busy.”  _No need to tell_ _him_ _that_ _I_ _almost decided not to come._

Antonio nodded, telling him it was a l l right as they exchanged pleasantries several  moments longer. Finally he held his hand out. For a few seconds Lovino was worried that  he actually expected him to  hold it , but instead Antonio simply beckoned, sending him a wide grin. “It's this way, c'mon, let's get out of the cold,” he said, turning on his heel and moving off, Lovino moving to follow him at his side.

The coffee shop that Antonio had wanted to show  him turned out to be  a small two-storey building  at the corner of a side-alley. The place was cosy, with only a half-dozen other customers there at the time, and tended to by a sleepy tanned man with rather wild brown hair  and an accent Lovino couldn't place .  Antonio ordered a simple cup of coffee,  leaving it bare, Lovino a cappuccino,  and then they mov ed up to the second floor where they could sit by the window,  looking out over the street.  They sat opposite each other, Lovino staring down at his cup as he stirred the froth  absent-mindedly . Opposite him, Antonio was still grinning wide, glancing at his watch. “OK! We've got just over a half-hour before I have to be getting back to work.”

There was a brief silence between the two of them before Lovino spoke, raising his cup to his lips. “Where exactly do you work again?”

“Not far from here at all. Just head across the  square, down that alley with the Chinese  market , y'know the one,  _Wang's_ or something, it's a small shop just beside there, sells tools and materials.”

“Good job?”

Antonio was beaming ear to ear, as though the fact they were having a normal conversation with no acerbic or sarcastic remarks was unbelievably enjoyable. “Pretty good! Owner's old, so I do all the lifting, stacking, arranging, cleaning, all that. Hours are fairly full, but pay's good with that.”

“ Considering how often you go drinking, I imagine it must be.”

Antonio raised an eyebrow, flashing him a wry grin.“I don't go drinking that often.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, giving him a sly smirk. “Oh, so all those drinks I've served you were all in my imagination?”

“ Well, you're a pretty big drinker yourself,” the Spaniard responded, flashing him a wink. Lovino sighed, staring down at his cup. Silence descended between the two of them again for a few seconds before Antonio spoke again. “So, uh, hope you don't mind me asking, but Feli said you guys came over from  Austria -”

Lovino rolled his eyes, giving a pained sigh. “ But we're Italian?  Yeah, that's Feli, confusing people as ever.  We grew up in Italy with our granddad until I was 14 – Feli 12 –  then we moved with friends of his in Austria, right on the border with Hungary. I moved here for uni, flunked, and managed to be allowed to stay,” he shrugged, “Feli ciano followed. There, nice little life story for you too, surprised Feli hasn't told you it yet.  In fact I'm pretty sure  _I've_ told you it before. ”  Antonio said nothing, taking a sip of his coffee, apparently having more sense than to ask any  further into  Lovino's life. Fiddling with his spoon, Lovino asked, “What about yourself?”

“Oh I grew up in Spain, small town in Castilla y Léon, moved here bout five years ago when I was 22.” The tanned man looked down, staring into his own cup. “Uh...not much to say really.”  He  gave a small chuckle and looked up, a smile  plastered on his face . “ Pretty boring really. Moved here,  did odd jobs around everywhere,  met Francis and through him Gilbert and the others. got the job at the shop, nothing special.”

“ Special  i s overrated,” Lovino said simply, shrugging. “Not everyone needs a sob story or an action adventure as a childhood.”

Antonio chuckled. “Well, got plenty of adventures: one time I got lost in the mountains  on holiday when I was six, ended up  wandering about for  over an hour before they found me.”

Lovino smirked, giving the other a sly look. “Guess that persistence of yours must have helped, huh?” Antonio only laughed, giving  him a wide smile. “ Feli and I got lost tons of times too, Rod e rich and Elizabeta own a place in the country, so we'd spend most of our time in the fields or woods.  This one time when I was about 8 or so we were playing in the woods and it turned out one of the locals liked to let his wolfdog run around the area. So this huge dog came bounding out from the bushes, pouncing onto Feliciano. We thought it was an actual wolf though so I tried to pull it off while he was pretty much having a panic attack, screaming and thrashing  as the dog  just licks him, you know, the whole works. Then the damn thing just gets up and goes off through the trees, probably back to its owner, and the two of us just ran like fucking sprin ters as far as we could until we realised we had no idea where we were any more. They only found us thanks to th at dog  sniffing us out in the end.” 

Antonio laughed at that, raising his cup to his lips and drinking. “ As good at making friends then as now,” he remarked, a sly smirk on his face. Lovino only rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his own coffee.  There was another short bout of silence as they drank, before Antonio punctured it. “So, are you working tonight?”

“No, I've got the afternoon shift on my own,” he glanced down at his watch, “in just over an hour. I'll probably stay some time this evening to keep Manon company though, not like I need to get up early tomorrow.” Lovino tilted his head, sending a suspicious gaze the Spaniard's way. “Why?” The other man only grinned, shrugging, to which he responded with a frown. “Planning to come and harass me, aren't you, you bastard?”

That got him a laugh, and Antonio took a sip of coffee before responding. “Harass isn't really the word I'd go for. I have a free evening, so I thought I might go get a drink, you know? Might see if the others want to turn up too.” Lovino only rolled his eyes again, the last thing he wanted was to end up being forced to hang around with some group he didn't even know. “Should you really even be going there, though?”

“What do you mean?”

Lovino slowly stirred his coffee, leaning his head into his other hand as he stared impassively at the other man. “Well, Lars wasn't exactly what you'd call happy to see you at _his own_ bar. He's working tonight, who's to say he's going to be happy to let you in?”

Antonio seemed put off by the question for several seconds, staring down at his own drink, face dispassionate. Then as though it hadn't happened, he was back to smiling again. “Nah, he's not gonna kick out customers, if he's anything, he's not-” he trailed off for a second then shrugged, “he's not petty like that. I mean, back when I knew him, it's been a while I'll admit.”

Lovino simply shrugged taking a sip of coffee. “Doesn't seem the type I guess, you're right. He's a gruff bastard but he's not petty. Still, if you're sure. If you get kicked out or he refuses to serve you then don't expect any sympathy.”

Antonio gave him a sly smirk. “ _Sympathy?_ From _you_?” He winked. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He'd clearly meant it as a joke, but as Lovino looked down into his nearly-empty cup he felt a slight persistent thought bother him at the back of his mind. Was that what Antonio thought of him? Some sullen, unreasonable man, never a good word for anyone else? He _could_ be sympathetic if he wanted to, he _had_ been with Antonio sometimes, surely? He had a low tolerance for stupidity, that was all. And since the man opposite him hit all the notes for the “optimistic and air-headed” type that often irritated him, it was only normal that he could be gruff with Antonio, after all, no? He shook his head, what did it even matter what Antonio thought of him? Not long ago he'd been looking to chase the man away for good.

The Spaniard seemed to take his movement as just him dismissing the joke, chuckling as he drank up, setting down his empty cup. “Well, I should probably be heading back to work.”

“ Already?” The word was out of Lovino's mouth before he'd realised it.  He could have sworn a look of surprise and  then delight flashed across Antonio's face.

“ Gonna miss my company?” the Spaniard teased.

Lovino rolled his eyes. “No, it's just I haven't finished my cup,  pretty damn rude to leave when I'm still drinking.”  Still, he raised his cup, draining it in one last gulp and setting it down with a click  before  shifting his chair back to get up.

They strode back  out into the cold, heading back into the square where Antonio stopped, turning round to face Lovino with his customary wide grin.

“ Well, gotta dash back to work. See you this evening maybe?”

He held his hand out  and Lovino took it, giving  him a small handshake and shrugging. “Maybe. Bye.”  And with a final grin Antonio turned back round, heading off to the other side of the square. Lovino watched for a few seconds before glancing down at his watch and heading off back home  himself to get ready before work.

H is shift passed without much happening. The bar opened in the afternoon but for the better part the majority of customers came during the evening.  It was already dark outside by the time  eight rolled around and Manon came to take his place and he decided to stay a while longer to keep her company as he often did.  The benefit of working mostly evening s and nights meant that he was used to staying up late and not having to get up early in the morning;  if he went home he'd just spend the evening wasting his time watching TV or reading or something, so he might  just as well stay.

It was almost nine when Antonio arrived as promised, flashing Lovino a grin as he made his way over, taking a seat besides him. “ Hey again.”

“Evening.” Lovino took a sip of his drink, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Just you?”

“Well the others might be along later,  I just left them  a bout an hour ago, and Ludwig's with-”

“Feli. Yeah.  There's a fucking surprise. ”

A voice cut in. “I think they're cute together.” Lovino turned to see a grinning Manon leaning over the bar, head resting in her hands.

“You think that about every couple,” he retorted.

She smirked, giving him a wink. “You two certainly are cute together too.”

He heard Antonio laugh almost nervously as Lovino scowled, letting out a dismissive noise. “Get back to work and stop spouting crap.”

She giggled, turning to the Spaniard. “So what  wi ll it be?”  As Antonio ordered his drink and Manon moved off to serve it, Lovino stared down at his own drink. He was already feeling light-headed, last thing he needed was a repeat of what had happened,  what, almost two  week s ago now?  It struck him he ' d almost known Antonio  over three weeks now, almost a month.  It seemed a lot shorter than that, certainly an odd feeling .  He took another gulp of his drink, why stop?  H e was light-headed,  sure, but feeling fine.  Manon set down Antonio 's drink , taking the  proffered payment and handing over the change with practised ease before turning her still-amused eyes towards Lovino,  clearly intent on saying something further. He was in luck however, as before she could speak her eyes fell on a small gaggle of other customers stood at the other side of the bar, clearly waiting for a drink  an d so with a wink she left.

Antonio took up his drink  and  brought it to his lips for a long gulp.  He t ook half of it in one easy swallow, coughing slightly  as the strong taste that forced its way down his throat . “So how's it been-”

“Since a few hours ago? I've met the love of my life and am running away with her overseas. How's that?”

The Spaniard let out a small chuckle, bright green eyes amused. “Well damn, just as we were getting to be friends.  Hey, you'll keep in touch,  right ?  Just a call now and then at least. ”

Lovino let out a dismissive huff of air through his teeth, leaning back on his stool and taking another sip of his drink. “I'll invite you to the wedding, don't worry.”

Antonio laughed again at that, taking another swig of his drink, emptying the glass and setting it down, giving Manon a wave as she chatted with another customer.

“Finished already?” she remarked, taking the glass. “Same again?” He nodded and soon had another drink in his hands, a wide grin still on his face as he turned to Lovino.

“Well then, a toast to your engagement?” he said, eyes bright and teasing as he held the glass up before him.

Whether it was the drink or not Lovino couldn't be sure, but he simply huffed in reply and took his own drink, clinking his glass against Antonio's and taking a swig of it. _The bastard_ _can_ _be acceptable company occasionally_ , he grudgingly admitted to himself. The pair sat by the corner of the bar for a good while longer, trading stories amidst the occasional jab from Lovino, drinking until Antonio was slouched on one arm, propping himself up against the bar, “No, no, it's true!”

Lovino huffed dismissively, giving the man a side-stare. He was finding it rather hard to concentrate, how much had he had? He himself was propped up against the bar. He tried to focus, pinning his gaze on Antonio's eyes, a rather vivid shade of green, he had to admit. But then it was no surprise that he could see them so clearly, the pair of them were less than two feet away from each other, slouched forward in each other's mutual directions. When had that happened? “Fuck, there's no way, you-”

They were interrupted in their drunken argument by a cheery, trilling laugh. “Even drunk the pair of you just keep at it! Don't you get tired of arguing?” The two of them turned their unfocused gazes onto the figure of a giggling, grinning Manon.

Lovino harrumphed, giving her an exaggerated frown. “We're not arguing!” he protested, and to prove it, his arm shot out, eliciting a surprised yelp from Antonio as his arm leant over the Spaniard's shoulder and hooked round his neck, pulling him in to a drunken, half-fall, half-hug, shoulders and torsos pressed together. “See? Best of friends! Now you deal with your own business!”

“Oh definitely, best of friends,” the Belgian woman continued with a little wink to Lovino, stooping down to pick up a glass and moving off with another small giggle to herself.

“Pff, wh-” Lovino turned his head to face Antonio, only to find his face buried in a tussle of messy brown hair. The drunken man had apparently taken Lovino's joking hug as an opportunity to rest his head on his shoulder, apparently finding it rather comfortable. Lovino huffed, air laced with a slight sweet, fruity scent he could only imagine came from Antonio. He was dimly aware he should maybe have been angry at how the Spaniard wasn't moving off, but to his slight surprise he felt nothing much but a slight thud in his chest. The alcohol no doubt. Well, why couldn't he let it slide for once? Antonio had been drinking rather heavily after all – as had he.

Still, he wasn't gonna sit here all evening. “Oi, you bastard,” he muttered, craning his neck back to avoid having his mouth stuck against the mess of dark brown that was the Spaniard's hair. “I'm not a pillow-” He let his arm slide free, but Antonio remained in place, muttering something that Lovino couldn't make out. “Oi, I'm not slurring _that_ much, I know you can hear-”

“Pretty touchy-feely for someone who didn't even want to be friends...” he heard Antonio mutter, leaning back and pulling himself off from Lovino's shoulder with a wry grin.

“What? I grabbed you by your neck to tell Manon to go away, hardly touchy-feely!” Lovino protested, throwing his hands up.

Antonio only chuckled, sticking his tongue out a bit in a childish motion. “Touchy-feely for you!” he slurred out with a wink.

Lovino stuck the tip of his own tongue out in imitation immediately, before giving the tanned man a frown that didn't really reach his eyes nor mood, in fact, he could feel the corners of his mouth trying to twitch up into a smile. Just how much had he had? He couldn't even tell whether Antonio was having trouble staying upright or whether it was his own vision that was swaying as he had trouble staying still. Perhaps he should call it a night at this point, the last thing he needed was something embarrassing to occur, much less before Antonio. The thought of embarrassing himself before the man made his stomach give a small churn, eliciting a little frown from Lovino. _Guess_ _I_ _really_ _am_ _beginning to care._ He yawned, blinking his eyes, trying to focus as Antonio was babbling in front of him.

“Yeah, yeah, listen, hey, I'm gonna head off for the night,” he interrupted, rubbing a hand over his tired face. He stood up, only to let out a surprised cry as Antonio pushed his body forward, looping his arms round Lovino's waist.

“Waaaaait, Loviii, don't go! Weren't we drinking till dawn?”

Lovino looked down, blinking as he made out Antonio's grinning face staring up at him, caught in place by those arms locked around his waist. “It's only ten, bar closes in two hours, we're not drinking till dawn!” he muttered, moving his hands down to try and get himself free. _Jeez, talk about being all over the place._ He didn't feel angry though, his stomach just felt slightly odd, the alcohol most probably, but instead of his expected explosive outburst he just stared down unimpressed, finding it partly humorous that he had just been worried about embarrassing himself to a man who was now acting like him leaving was the worst thing to happen.

“Well, best of friends indeed!” came a giggling voice. He turned his head to see Manon grinning wide at the pair, resting on her elbows as she watched.

“Help me with the bastard would you?” Lovino grunted, scowling and pointing one finger down at the man trapped around his waist as he tried to pry himself free from Antonio's grasp. “Get off, you goddamn moron, we'll do this another time so get the fuck off already.”

He felt Antonio loosen his grasp, leaning back against the bar, face a bit red, grinning like an idiot as usual. “Well then, night Lovi! Have a good rest!”

“You staying?”

Antonio flashed him a wink and his grin widened. “Francis is dropping by, he'll drive me back, but he won't be here for another half-hour or so.”

Lovino gave him a neutral look, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over to Manon. “You take care of him, yeah?”

Antonio chuckled, swaying a bit on his stool. “I didn't know you cared-”

Manon interrupted him with a trilling laugh, a nod and a wide smile of her own. “Don't you worry!”

“I don't care and I'm not worried. It's more like making sure some brain-dead senile dog can find its way home. Call it pity.” Lovino retorted.

“Will _you_ be OK?” Manon asked, tilting her head with a more serious look on her face.

Lovino huffed again. “ _I'm_ not a brain-dead senile dog, so yes.” He gave the pair a nod, and telling them goodnight as he grabbed his coat, he headed out into the cold Autumn air. Sighing as he stepped out, he pushed the collar of his coat up a bit as his breath misted in front of him. As he began to walk back – doing his best to keep in a straight line – his brain mused. Antonio was certainly having an effect on him, despite all Lovino had done and said. It was almost infuriating, or it would be, if he didn't find himself beginning to enjoy the man's company more and more every time they found themselves together. His mind strayed to the warm, comforting feel of Antonio against him when Lovino had grabbed him, and from there to when Antonio had hugged him that time Lovino had driven him home, ten days earlier. He shook his head, the alcohol was certainly having quite the effect! _What a mess,_ _from hating to... eh, all in a month._ He huffed, nostrils blowing twin small plumes of mist into the freezing air as he began to trudge home.


End file.
